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MORIAL THE MAHATMA 











MOR.IAL THE MAHATMA 



AUTHOR OF 


“THE BLOSSOM AND THE FRUIT,” “IDA,” “THE CONFESSIONS OF A 
WOMAN,” “THROUGH THE GATES OF GOLD,” ETC. 





NEW YORK 


LOVELL, GESTEFELD & COMPANY 


125 East 23D Street 






Copyright, 1892, 

BY 

UNITED STATES BOOK COMPANY, 


[A 11 rights reserved.] 



v'% 

1 


J 


M0R1AL THE MAHATMA; 


OR, 

THE BLACK MASTER OF TIBET. 


CHAPTER L 

Morning on the mountain tops ! The sun had just 
risen over the snow-crowned peaks, sending a strong 
glow of warmth through the biting air into the shel- 
tered valleys protected from the cruel northern winds. 
The lofty summits of the great range of everlasting 
hills gleamed brilliantly against the dark blue sky. 
But below the glittering line of the snow mantle all 
was dark and terrible ; dreadful precipices and deep 
ravines broke up the rugged surfaces, and no verdure 
existed to soften the gloom. The solitude and sense 
of stillness in these mountains is something beyond 


6 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


expression. Mortal man has never trodden these 
desolate crests nor even essayed to climb to the verge 
of the snow. 

They are impassable to the native mountaineers, 
and the wild goats, and the yak can find no foothold 
on them. These mountains, so awful in their grand- 
eur, so appalling in their solitude, are the mysterious 
and wondrous Koiran chain, which stands in the 
centre of Tibet. 

All that the Western world, the world of civilisa- 
tion, as it is termed, knows of them is that their glit- 
tering peaks can be seen from the summit of Mount 
Kambala. But even to the most daring traveller who 
has had the courage to attempt the passage of the 
Himalayas, the grand range of the Koiran remains 
a mystery and a marvel. 

They are inaccessible. The “old ice/’ as the Tibet- 
ians call the perpetual snow, which makes them so 
beautiful in the brilliant morning sunshine, will never 
gladden the heart of man or beast in the summer 
heats, for neither can ever reach it. 

The morning sun may kiss the frozen heights, but 
fails to warm even the crust of the ice cap. Only 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


7 


the clouds may rest on the bosom of these grim sen- 
tinels. Alone with the storm and mist, the majesty 
of the heavens, and the roar of the elements, they 
guard for ever the heart of that land of wonders and 
romance which we call Tibet. 

A perfect fastness is this strange spot around which 
roam the great peoples and hordes of Asia. Was it 
so preserved when the world was created, that the 
Great Unknown might have a natural temple in which 
to dwell when He deigned to visit the earth ? Who 
can say ? 

It was a May morning — which means, that here 
in Tibet, it was the height of summer. The sun had 
indeed extraordinary strength, and threw an almost 
tropical heat into the sheltered valleys. There were 
but few of these where the soil would admit of the 
sun's kindliness being rewarded by greenness or 
colour. There was one such spot, however, which 
seemed especially favoured. 

Completely walled in from the world by these giant 
mountains, and right in their very heart, a gleaming 
oasis shone out as the sun poured its warmth and 
brilliance straight upon it. 


8 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


A beautiful stream fell into this lovely valley and 
gathered in the centre into a broad lake. 

Here were the only trees to be seen in all that ter- 
rible mountain land. Here, too, were rich grass, 
flowering shrubs, and waving fields of grain. 

On the lake numbers of beautiful wild fowl revelled 
in the sunshine. Flowers bloomed on every side, fill- 
ing the air with sweetest perfumes. Not even the 
happy valley of Rasselas, filled with delights, could 
compare, for gorgeous beauty, harmony of colour 
wealth of glory, with this wondrous oasis. It was 
like a vision of heaven, a dream of paradise, shut in 
among the awful hills ! 

Until the sun was high in the sky it seemed as 
though this exquisite spot, hidden and sheltered by the 
stern and gloomy peakswhich surrounded it, was unin- 
habited save by the birds of the air. But the sun soon 
drew forth the lizards to bask in its warmth, and the 
noonday hour drew forth also the one solitary human 
creature within it whose home was here guarded by 
the great mountains from the intrusion of the curious, 
ignorant world. 

The tallest cluster of trees — most of them flowering, 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


9 


and grouped so beautifully together that their ap- 
pearance was as of a bouquet cast upon the black 
' mountain side — surrounded and concealed a dwelling. 
When the sun was hot a man stepped out from the 
flower-wreathed doorway, and lifting his face towards 
the day god, took with delight a deep inspiration of 
the keen pure mountain air, snow-sweetened and 
scent-laden. 

What a face ! Was it that this sunshine, this air, 
could create such marvellous beauty ? 

A man of the stature and appearance of other men. 
shaped like the toiling millions ; yet how different ! 
It scarcely seemed as if he could be of the race of 
mankind, this superbly beautiful being. Standing in 
the sunshine, glorious as Apollo, he completed the 
perfect charm of this lovely scene. The summit of 
creation— -the human flower, seemingly fresh from the 
hands of Divinity — had appeared amidst the flowers 
of nature. 

A man in strength and vigour, his face had yet all 
the fresh beauty of youth. Only a light fair down 
lay over the exquisite curve of his mouth ; the dark 
blue eyes he lifted to the sunshine were calm and 


IO 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


untroubled, like a boy's. There was majesty and 
power in his bearing, such as is vouchsafed only to 
those who are above the common herd of men that 
are born and die, and leave no trace of their lives but 
a few bones and a handful of earth. 

The glorious panorama stretched before him gave 
the keen pleasure of contrast to his gaze, for the hours 
of darkness, and even of the early morning, had been 
spent by this wondrous mortal in strange, unhal- 
lowed studies, and tasks that men speak of only with 
bated breath. 

Awe-inspiring and marvellous as the great barrier 
that surrounded him, was he who stands revealed to 
our gaze, unknown and inaccessible as the innermost 
recess of the Koiran range, was this solitary man, 
magician, and seer, Morial, The Mahatma. 

A smile of intense pleasure illumined his face, as 
he passed out on to the grass. Each summer morn- 
ing, and each moment of it, was as a fresh revelation 
of enjoyment to him. A happy hour in this trans- 
parent air had the fulness of an eternity to this man ; 
so great was his capacity for pleasure that every 
second had its keen sensation. Magic arts were his 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


II 


at command; from afar off he controlled the feelings 
of many disciples, to his will even whole nations 
were subjected, he was as destiny to those who came 
under his sway. For him the secrets of nature, the 
mysteries of life, had been unlocked. 

He had lived through centuries, through aeons, 
accumulating pleasure, learning to intensify the joy 
of existence ! 

He moved across the grass, and as he passed from 
the door, a panther which had been crouching behind 
him, rose and followed him with stealthy step. 
This creature never left MoriaFs side save when he 
entered his laboratory, and then it lay, motionless, 
across the doorway. 

He went down to the side of the water and called 
to the fowl, who came flying to him from far across 
it, as soon as they heard his voice. They fluttered 
about him, and he smiled with pleasure as he watched 
their beautiful movements. 

A dark blue robe, made of the exquisitely fine cloth 
woven from the soft wool of the Tibetan sheep, en- 
folded his person. It was a simple gown, much like 
the coat worn by an Indian rajah, and was only remark- 


12 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


able for the extreme fineness of its texture. His head 
was uncovered, and the sun's rays turned his hair 
into a halo of gold. Standing here among his fav- 
ourite birds, he might have been mistaken, with 
his marvellous beauty for a faun or a pagan deity. 

Suddenly there sounded a faint cry — a cry as of 
a human voice, but very far off — from among the 
mountains. Morial scattered the birds from him 
with a gesture, and they flew away over the water 
as if obeying his wish. He stood still and listened. 
Again it came — more clearly: 

“ Master ! ” 

Morial turned in the direction whence the sound 
proceeded, and raised his right hand with a move- 
ment of command. As he did so, a gradual change 
came over him — his face grew set and stern, and the 
beautiful smile left it — he seemed to increase in 
stature. 

Presently from out of a thicket of flowering trees, 
a being appeared — a strange figure, in this morning 
sunshine, muffled from head to foot in a black gar- 
ment, the face entirely hidden in the sable folds ; only 
the bare feet could be seen, as it advanced tim- 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


13 


idly, like one blindfolded does, towards the Master. 

“What is it, my disciple ? ” said Morial, and at the 
sound of his voice the figure fell upon the ground and 
lay prostrate before him. 

“ Speak ! ” said the Master, holding out his hand. 
Was the face so closely veiled to shield it from the 
rays of the brilliant sun, or from the much more ter- 
rible brilliance of the master's presence? For now, 
while he used his power, his eyes were like fire ; and 
from the golden hair that crowned his head some- 
thing rose upwards, vivid even in the strong sunlight, 
like a flame. 

“ He is lost, Master, lost in the pass of Phari ! His 
strength has failed him." 

“This is your fault ! * 

“ I have failed, Master. The servants of the Llama 
Lishnoo have seized me, and I am helpless — they 
have taken me into the great Lamasery. They think 
me dead. Oh, Master, save me ! ” 

“Save you !” said Morial. “You are a useless 
servant. ” 

He spoke quite without anger, but there was no 
mercy in his voice. How should there be ? He felt 


14 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


that the Great Unseen Hand — the hand of God — was 
opposing him. In such a warfare, a mere soldier 
of the ranks was readily forgotten. 

He turned away, passing his right hand across his 
brow as he did so. Instantly the normal appearance 
of his face returned — the smile of pleasure came upon 
his eyes and mouth again. He moved towards the 
house, without another glance at the dark figure. 

Motionless, it lay upon the grass, like a dead thing. 
And yet ! before he had gone many paces it had 
vanished ; there was nothing there. The dark blot 
on the beauty of the sunshine and the verdure was 
wiped out more easily than a spot of ink on a painted 
canvas. 

Turning at the doorway, Morial lifted his hand as 
if with a gesture of farewell to the beautiful scene he 
left ; and for one moment the smile in his eyes, blue 
with the dark blueness of the Tibetan sky he gazed 
at, deepened into laughter, 

“ Now to work ! and the surrender of sweet pleas- 
ure for the moment. I have conquered through the 
ages — I shall conquer to the end.” 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


15 


CHAPTER II. 

When he entered the doorway of the house it was 
as though the whole world had changed — as though 
he had passed from one planet to another. There 
were two entrances to this dwelling, and he returned 
by that through which he had emerged, which was 
quite contrary to his wonted custom. But he had un- 
expected work to do ; he had to repair the failure of 
a servant and see that that erring servant's work was 
properly done, therefore he returned to his laboratory. 

The panther crouched down at the entrance, in- 
stinctively. 

How dark ! how cold ! how silent ! Was the 
world dead, and the sun's light quenched in the 
heavens ? 

Morial threw aside the blue robe, and put on in its 
place a white garment, most exquisitely embroidered 
with figures which seemed to change as he moved. 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


16 

He pushed aside a heavy curtain and entered the 
inner chamber of the laboratory. He only glanced 
round. His night’s work was finished, and he had 
no need to enter here for some hours to come. He 
paused to give one look at a vast map of the world 
which covered a whole wall. This map was a liv- 
ing thing — a conscious phonograph — and disclosed 
to him who could command it the movements and 
actions of the nations and of the men who led them. 
Morial’s passing scrutiny was merely to see if any 
change had occurred since he had left his vigil. But, 
no ! — there was nothing to attract his attention. 

He went on, past some more heavy curtains, and 
through a massive doorway. And now, indeed, it 
seemed as though he had entered the arctic regions ! 
The stillness was awful ; the cold intense. But these 
things did not trouble Morial, who had the power of 
putting aside external sensations at his* will, and was 
able to adapt his own temperature to that in which 
he found himself. 

The room he entered was hewn out of the living 
rock ; long, narrow, perfectly dark. A lighted taper 
in a crevice of the wall at the entrance was all the 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA . 


17 


light admitted. He advanced until he came into the 
complete darkness, which fell like a pall, so deep 
was it. 

But something was now alight — an irradiated 
light ! — a light not of the earth. A gleam came from 
it, like moonlight — cold and white. 

It was a huge crystal, hung from the roof of the 
great room. 

In its heart was the mystic gleam which can be 
seen only in earthly darkness, and which shines but 
for the eye of the initiated. 

Morial stood before it, and gazing into its depths 
he stretched out his right hand towards it. As he 
did so, the red gold hair upon his head again seemed 
to lift itself. But now, in the darkness, it could be 
seen as living flame. 

The light of the crystal clouded and grew dim. 
Still Morial gazed ; and soon the cloud parted and 
slowly cleared. Then, with all the sharpness of 
a photograph, a scene appeared before his eyes. 

The side of a vast, snow-clad mountain, the sum- 
mit just visible, and along this summit a row of small 

flags, fluttering in the wind, fixed roughly, but firmly 
2 



1 8 MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 

enough, in rude cairns of stone. Morial knew these 
to mark the boundary line between Hindostan and 
Tibet. A long way down the dreary face of the 
dark mountain Sumunang was a ravine, filling rapidly 
with drifting snow. In this cold grave he could 
discern a man, wrapped in a travelling cloak, and 
seemingly dead. Morial knew him not to be dead. 
He was fast bound in the sleep of fatigue and of 
cold, known only too well to the daring traveller 
who attempts to pass the Himalayas. 

“My feeble disciple ! ” murmured Morial, as he 
looked at this scene, “you must not be lost to me 
so readily. I have work for you to do. You, who 
have almost penetrated into the fastnesses of Tibet, 
shall not die within sight of the flags. No, I need 
you. You are now in the pass of Phari : you shall 
be brought in safety to the other side of it.” 

He waved his hand, and immediately the crystal 
clouded. Presently, the clouds parted again, and 
there was revealed another part of the same dreadful 
pass. A great company of pilgrims was collected 
here, resting in the snow. They were worn out with 
fatigue, and all half asleep ; but with their cloaks 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


l 9 


and camping fire were able to retain life. These, 
as Morial knew, were pilgrims from the borders 
of Hindostan to the shrine of Kiangtsi, within the 
borders of Tibet. He scrutinised their faces a mo- 
ment or two, and then raised his hand and made a 
sudden movement towards one of them. Instantly 
this sleeper sprang up and began to cry out and 
declaim. In a moment he was surrounded by others, 
who listened to him in amazement. He issued words 
of command, and his comrades hurriedly prepared 
to obey him, for they were devout believers in the 
divine afflatus. 

Soon a small band set forth through the snow, led 
by the inspired speaker, who hurried on, surmount- 
ing every difficulty with incredible strength. At last 
he stood still and shouted with excitement, pointing, 
as he did so, to the ravine below, where in the snow 
lay the figure he had been shown in his vision — the 
prostrate figure of the man he had been commanded 
to save. 

The traveller was drawn forth from the snow, and 
carried back to the heat of the fire, and revived by 
such rude methods as the pilgrims could devise. No 


20 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


word could be interchanged, even when the frozen 
traveller had recovered his senses, for Julian Arundel 
knew nothing of Hindustanee, which was the only 
language these men had ever heard of. But he knew 
that these wild-looking creatures had saved his life ; 
saved it by so much of a miracle, that his faith re- 
turned as he thought of it, and he believed again, not 
only that Mahatma Morial existed, but that he him- 
self was destined to find him. This faith had deserted 
him more than once during his terrible journey ; and 
when at length his strength gave way in climbing 
that awful pass of Phari, he had given up all hope. 

Morial remained standing by the crystal until again 
the clouds veiled its light, and then he left the dark 
room in which it hung. He passed straight through 
his laboratory without a glance around ; and putting 
on once more the blue robe, he went quickly out into 
the glorious sunshine. 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


21 


CHAPTER III. 

The scene which he had just witnessed as a vision 
was real enough to its unfortunate hero. 

Julian Arundel, although he had felt himself to be 
among friends for the moment, could not guess how 
long that friendship might last, or what it would mean. 

He did not know enough of the country to recog- 
nise that he had fallen in with a band of pilgrims, 
and all kinds of wild conjectures filled his mind, as 
soon as he had fully recovered his faculties. 

The strange looking creatures by whom he was 
surrounded, although they were kind enough in a 
rough way, yet evidently considered him their pro- 
perty. Being unable to speak a word which they 
understood, he could only lie by the camp fire and 
wonder what was to happen next. 

His mind went back to London, to the home and 


22 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


to the life he had left, and all their attractions, and 
to her who would have been his wife, ere now, if he 
had not followed the mysterious call which came to 
him. 

Here, lying by the fire under the Tibetan sky, his 
far-off home seemed like a dream to him. He 
thought of his studio, where now, although he had 
quitted it, his last work stood upon an easel, care- 
fully guarded and screened by a curtain from prying 
eyes. 

That last work was a portrait of Morial the Ma- 
hatma in all the majestic beauty which we have 
seen. 

As one does sometimes, in an enforced period of 
quiet, Julian Arundel thought over many of the 
details of the commencement of his strange pil- 
grimage. 

He recalled that night in his studio when Daphne 
had been sitting to him, and he startled her by an 
exclamation of surprise, and almost of horror, for, 
suddenly, while he was working, he had seen upon 
the wall opposite, in letters of fire, the name “ Morial.” 
This had appeared, vanished, and appeared again, 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


2 3 


and Daphne in her tender anxiety thought he had 
been working too hard, and that he was ill. 

But the next day before her sitting was over, not 
only did the name appear, but the figure of the 
Master himself stood in the room. To Julian he was 
as real as a human being in the flesh. Daphne saw 
and heard nothing, but she was filled with terror for 
Julian's health. 

However, when this vision had appeared again 
and again, at last she also seemed to realise its pres- 
ence, and when Julian took a fresh canvas and be- 
gan to sketch the figure of the Master, she was over- 
come with a sense of its reality. 

What a splendid portrait it was that appeared upon 
his canvas ! It filled his own mind with awe and 
wonder as he painted, and Daphne would sit for 
hours, watching him at work, lost in a kind of 
dream. 

Before the picture was finished he had seen writ- 
ten across it the words, that were to him a sacred 
call : “ Leave everything and come to me .” 

Daphne saw this too, only for a moment, and she 
could scarcely tell whether it was fancy, so brief 


24 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


was the glimpse ! But her mind was overwhelmed 
with a sense of the awful reality of the thing, and 
when Julian turned to her aiid said : 

“ Daphne, this is the great call, I must go,” her 
answer was simply : 

“ Yes, you must go.” 

Daphne Royal was quite alone in the world, save 
for a distant relation in whose charge she was now 
placed. She was a ward in Chancery, very rich. 
Her fathers early death left her entirely without any 
controlling authority. Julian and she had known 
each other since they were children, and she had 
always looked to him for guidance as well as love. 

She and her auntie, as she called Miss Riga, who 
was in reality a second cousin of her dead father, 
lived next door to him at Hampstead. The young 
people were much together, but Julian had a great 
distrust of the old lady, and was well aware that she 
did not like him. 

This was his one trouble in leaving Daphne so 
long and in postponing their marriage. He thought 
of it now when he was so far from her. 

Miss Riga was, in his opinion, capable of any 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


25 


duplicity for her personal advantage, but Daphne 
would never listen to anything against her aunt, for 
in her childhood she had learned to look up to her 
as to a mother. 

Miss Riga felt that when Daphne came of age and 
married Julian Arundel her special occupation would 
be at amend. Not only was she pleased at the “ call,” 
but she felt that it would be a good thing to annihi- 
late Daphne’s affections for Julian in his absence. 

This was not possible, Julian thought to himself. 
Daphne was as true and as certain as the stars above 
him. And, moreover, he reminded himself it was 
against the conditions of the great call that he should 
even think about such a material matter ! 

Nothing mundane, nothing of earth was to affect 
him any longer : he had chosen his path, he had 
given up the world, and Daphne in her beautiful 
enthusiasm had agreed with him that he should 
obey the mysterious power which called him to 
service. 

Many times on the cruel mountain-side had he 
longed to be back in his comfortable studio with 
Daphne to cheer him, but he had taken a vow that 


26 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


he would not give way to fatigue or illness, that he 
would go on until he had proved to himself whether 
the Master existed in the flesh. 

Through the most difficult parts of his journey a 
guide had been by his side who had helped and be- 
friended him. This man had sometimes, he declared, 
even spoken with the Master himself, and hope beat 
high in Julian's heart when the thought came that 
perhaps this man was a chosen disciple sent to help 
him. 

But at the most critical moment, on the very border 
of Tibet, at the worst point of this terrible pass, this 
guide had apparently deserted him. In his awful 
peril and helplessness, when he sank down in the 
snowdrift, he had, indeed, cursed the enthusiasm 
which had brought him on this apparently hopeless 
journey. 

But now that he had been saved, as if by a miracle, 
now that the night of despair was waning, and a 
streak of dawn was showing in the sky, he had again 
companions to help him on his way, and the en- 
thusiasm which had carried him so far rose strongly 
within him. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


27 


Yes ! he would despair no more. He would find 
the Master now at any cost. 

He reckoned without thought of the consequences 
to himself when the pilgrims would bring him to the 
great Lamasery or Tibetan Monastery at which they 
made their next halt. The awful rigours of the Ti- 
betan laws against the intrusion of strangers were, 
however, soon to be demonstrated to him. 


28 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


CHAPTER IV. 

Julian Arundel was a particularly handsome man. 
Not above the average stature, but broad-shouldered, 
with a magnificent figure, and a head carried with a 
certain Lucifer-like pride. No doubt Morial, in choos- 
ing him out of the many highly cultured persons in 
London for his peculiar purpose, had recognised the 
great physical strength which would survive hard- 
ship, and the pride which would scorn to fail. This 
last was an essential of Julian's character. The very 
fact that death had so nearly seized him, and so 
nearly destroyed his whole scheme and programme, 
made him awake in the morning, after a brief sleep, 
doubly resolved to persevere in his strange pilgrim- 
age. 

The camp fire, made of argols, the sole fuel of the 
country, was dying out. The pilgrims had un- 
tethered the miserable, starved horses which had 
carried them so far — carried them usually in manner 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


2 9 


unknown to Europeans, suspended to their tails. To 
hold on to one's horse's tail and let him climb is the 
only comparatively easy manner of ascending these 
terrible precipices, which are by courtesy called moun- 
tain faces. 

Poor Julian had come hither on his own weary 
limbs, and he surveyed with envy these travellers 
with skeleton beasts of burden. The exhaustion of 
the animals was owing to no inclemency of their 
masters, but simply to that of the climate, which for- 
bade the ground to yield them food. For many a 
weary day these poor creatures had only eaten grass 
so cruelly frozen that its stiffness cut their mouths 
and left them bleeding. Splendid horses at one time, 
they presented as sorry a spectacle as Julian himself, 
who, but a short while ago, a superb specimen of 
an Englishman, now looked like a starved mendi- 
cant. 

His face and hands were literally ploughed with 
the cold ; his grenadier moustache, erstwhile a pride 
to him, was now a torment, each hair being weighted 
by an unmeltable icicle. He was clad in strange 
garments ; a sheep's skin, the wool inwards, next 


30 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


his body; over this a coat made of foxes’ skins ; and 
over all a great woollen overcoat. 

It would have been hard indeed to recognise in 
this bundle the debonnaire figure which had been the 
ornament of Picadilly on many a private view day. 
But Julian was no trifler with circumstances ; if he 
had to face a difficulty or hardship he faced it hero- 
ically. At the same time it is possible that if on this 
morning he had foreseen the amount of hardship he 
would have to endure, he might even then have 
turned back. 

This would have been the case with most of us at 
the critical moments of our lives, and surely this is 
why (if there is a reason) the future is mercifully 
concealed from us. 

When Julian attempted to rise from his bed of 
cloaks, which the pilgrims made for him, he found 
that his feet and hands were completely frozen, and 
that it was impossible for him to stand, much less to 
walk. His lips were livid and his eyes drawn back- 
wards by the cold, and the pilgrims, who were well 
acquainted with the horrors of a frozen death, began 
to fear that it was all over with him. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


31 


The inspired one who had been guided to his res- 
cue refused to leave him by the wayside as some 
of them wished. Urged on by his importunities, a 
little body of rescue workers wrapped the unfortu- 
nate disciple of the great Morial in some rough blan- 
kets, and forced him to take a grasp of one of the 
horse's tails. In this way he was taken over the actual 
summit of the mountain. When they came to the 
other side he was placed upon one of the horses. 
The descent of the pass of the Phari is much like that 
of an enormous staircase, each stair of which seems 
very like what a Westerner would call a hill at the 
least. The animal which supported Julian appeared 
to sink from one vast table to another below it. 

He gave himself up for lost, simply clinging on to 
the horses body, which had a certain warmth and 
friendliness, and awaited his fate. Starvation had 
much to do with this apathetic condition of mind. 
He had tasted nothing but a little barley meal soaked 
with a horrible Tibetan tea for many a long day, and 
even that had been denied him for a day and a 
night. 

When at last the exhausted little company reached 


32 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 


what looked like a plain, but what was really a table- 
land, and there seemed some chance of an easier 
journey for a little while, a new danger presented 
itself. In the distance, on the far horizon, were seen 
two horsemen. Instantly the entire caravan stopped 
by a simultaneous movement of consternation. The 
distant horsemen galloped steadily at a furious pace. 
The inspired pilgrim, who always remained by the 
side of Julian, was hanging his head in an over- 
whelming state of abjection. Julian touched him to 
attract his attention. 

‘ * What is it ? ” he said, ‘ ‘ why are we halting ? ” but 
his attempt at Hindustani was unavailing. The man 
could not understand what he said, and his answer 
was equally unintelligible. Julian felt he could do 
nothing but submit to force of circumstances. 

By the time the horsemen had neared them, many 
more had appeared on the horizon. This was, as a 
matter of fact, a little band of some thirty or thirty-five 
in number of the Kolos, the brigands of Tibet. No one 
outside Tibet has an idea of the position of these men 
in the country. They say themselves that they are 
the servants of the Tale Lama, and irreconcilable 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


33 


enemies of the Emperor of China, and indeed of all 
foreign Powers. This may be true, for they certainly 
protect the frontier of Tibet more effectually than any 
body of recognised soldiers could. Europeans will, 
of course describe them as highwaymen. 

Julian's companions appeared to be utterly over- 
come with the appearance of these men. It was 
probably quite unexpected to them, that, poor as 
they were, destitute of everything but faith, they 
should attract any attention. Nevertheless, the Kolos 
were quite determined to give them a most embar- 
rassing interview. The reason for this was soon 
seen. 

Tibet appears to be a wild country, impassable, 
and without means of communication. And yet no 
European traveller has ever yet entered it, no trav- 
eller has ever passed the little flags, which look 
so innocent and trivial on the top of the great moun- 
tain, without these terrible warriors of the desert 
immediately arresting them, and condemning them 
to either death or imprisonment. What that im- 
prisonment ends in no European can at present 
even conjecture. 


3 


34 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


Julian s arrival had evidently been clearly expected; 
all about him, whence he had come was known, 
which pass he would enter by, and in what com- 
pany. As soon as the two emissaries from the little 
band reached the pilgrims, they immediately placed 
themselves one on each side of Julian, and then pro- 
ceeded to survey him with great interest. 

Awaiting the arrival of their companions, they did 
not attempt to speak to him, evidently being aware 
that there was no possible means of communication. 
Julian, in his turn, surveyed his guardians with great 
interest and curiosity. They were most terrible- 
looking persons, riding animals of a sort which Euro- 
peans are seldom favoured with seeing, even in a 
circus. A sheepskin was the only coat worn by these 
men, and a scrap of wolfs skin formed their caps, 
and long, thick black hair fell over their shoulders, a 
carbine was slung in the saddle-bow of each, and 
two long sabres stuck in the girdle. 

The alarming part, however, of their appearance 
was the expression of the eyes, which had something 
ferocious and wolfish in them. Julian had enough 
of the artist left in him, and enough of the philoso- 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 


35 


pher to be able to look at them and think to himself, 
“What would I not give to be back in my own studio 
with these gentlemen as my models. ” 

A long colloquy passed between his two guards 
and the pilgrims, which terminated on the arrival of 
the other Kolos. These men came galloping up in 
true circus fashion, careering wildly over the ground 
and then drawing up suddenly in a circle, the horses 
thrown back on their haunches. In a few moments 
the pilgrims had vanished. They appeared to have 
melted away like a handful ot Himalayan snow taken 
to a fireside. 

So far as the unlucky Julian was concerned, they 
had disappeared as easily as this, and he himself had 
an entirely new circle of acquaintances to deal with. 
He had been quickly taken off the wretched horse he 
was mounted on and placed on what he would him- 
self have described as a wild beast of the desert, 
which belonged to the brigands. They set off at 
full speed, and some kind of goad applied to his own 
animal kepi him in their midst. Presently with the 
greatest suddenness, a halt was called by a rough 
cry from the leader. Once more every horse was 


36 MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 

thrown back on its haunches. Julian would certainly 
have fallen from his animal, had not the men who 
rode by his side been so near and kept him in his 
place. 

A great change was now made in his position. 
He was quietly taken from his horse’s back and one 
of the warriors untied a long scarf which had been 
wound round his waist. This was knotted firmly 
round Julian’s neck, and by it he was attached to the 
horse’s tail. Immediately every man mounted and 
the party set off again at full speed. After a space of 
time, the length of which Julian himself never knew, 
he was released from this yoke of torture and left 
upon the ground perfectly unconscious. 

Many a long year afterwards he looked at the 
fragments of the scarf which had bound him, and 
which he succeeded in preserving, with utter amaze- 
ment at the manner in which his life had been pre- 
served. Preserved it was, but when first he opened 
his eyes his feeling was that death would have been 
far preferable under such circumstances. He found 
himself lying upon the ground, on the floor of a 
species of natural amphitheatre. When first his 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


37 


eyes opened he saw the intense blueness of the 
Tibetan sky, a blueness which is almost black, and 
magnifies the beauty of the stars at night. 

Now the sun was shining- in the heavens, although 
it did not reach him where he lay, for the shadow of 
a great mountain fell across the ground. As he 
lowered his gaze he saw the mountain tops one after 
another, and then he recognised the awful place where 
he had himself been. Yes, that was the pass of 
Phari, faraway, looking so remote that it seemed im- 
possible that human being should ever reach it. But 
he had passed it ; the little flags were passed, he had 
descended the other side of the mountain, and he 
was in Tibet. 

A wild sense of elation was the first feeling that 
arose within him. Before he had time to realize 
this, and believe that he was indeed in the secret 
country of the world, his sight was clouded, and 
the heavens were darkened by a dreadful shape 
that floated over him. What was this awful thing? 
Was this really not a world of the living, but a world 
of the dead? had he reached the uttermost regions, 


38 MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 

and was this a ghoul sent to close out light and 
destroy his life slowly ? 

He knew that it was a living thing, because he 
could see a movement that seemed like wings. But 
the creature was close to him, and so horribly dark, 
so black, that he could only determine the one fact 
that he lived. He longed to shriek, to cry out, but 
he could not. He was like a man in a nightmare. 
But the thing came closer, the blackness settled on 
him. Something seemed to touch his breast, and 
then all the vigour of the man asserted itself. 

With a wild effort he lifted his head and raised his 
arm, and struck the horror from him. What was it? 
It floated high into the air, up into the blueness of 
the sky. He watched it until it became so small 
that he could scarcely see it. Then he lowered his 
eyes again and saw around him, in the ghastly theatre 
in which he lay, millions of skeletons, and hovering 
over them more of those terrible black shapes — the 
great vultures of Tibet. 

In an instant he realised that this was a physical 
danger, that if he could rise, if he could stand, the 
creatures would not come near him. But how could 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


39 


he do this, worn out and exhausted as he was ? How 
was it that he was surrounded in this way by these 
skeletons, these bodies long since stripped of every 
particle of flesh? To him it seemed like some awful 
dream, like some ordeal given him to see if his 
reason would endure it. 

It was not until long afterwards when he learned 
something of the country, that he knew he had been 
simply left as one dead in an ordinary Tibetan burial 
ground. This was the burial ground of Phari, which 
lies below the pass. A deserted fortress stood on 
the other side of it, but Julian could not even know 
that there were walls to shelter him. And little use 
would these walls have been, for there was neither 
food nor fire nor any human company within them. 


40 


MO RIAL THE MAH A TMA . 


CHAPTER V. 

Julian must have swooned right away. He passed 
through what was a blissful period of unconscious- 
ness. When he again woke to life, his first impres- 
sion was that he was in the grasp of a fearful skele- 
ton, nothing more or less than the evil spirit itself 
come to claim him. This phantasy which affected 
him quickly passed away, and his next impression 
was that Daphne was sitting beside him and he was 
back again in his old, old room, and that he had 
been ill and she nursing him. How sweet it was; it 
brought to his troubled heart the sense of peace and 
of friendliness of human beings. 

He stirred himself to try and take her hand, and in 
this effort the dream vanished. No, it was not 
Daphne, and his own home and his happiness were 
on the other side of the world. He saw himself 
again surrounded by the bones of the dead, and the 
figure by his side he recognised after a moment of 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


41 


amazed contemplation. This was one of the pilgrims 
from whom he had been torn. He did not know the 
man except that he recognised him as one who had 
walked by his side. It was, in fact, the fanatic, the 
inspired speaker, who had risen out of his sleep 
before to save him, and who now, still under the 
spell of Mortal's dominion, had sought him out again 
in the graveyard. 

This man knew well enough that the stranger was 
not dead. If he had found him buried in the earth 
he would have dug him out of it. Moriahs spell was 
strong upon him. He lifted Julian in his arms, and 
drawing from inside his coat a little cake of barley, 
tried to press some of it upon him. But this was im- 
possible, for Julian was unable to swallow it. The 
pilgrim sighed,but made no further efforts. He put 
the cake back very carefully into the capacious bosom 
of his coat, which really served him as a larder. As a 
matter of fact he had offered to Julian what was really 
his own food for the next twenty-four hours, and it is 
little wonder that in the midst of hardships he was 
not sorry to think that this wretched meal had been 
saved for him. 


42 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


After carefully putting away the cake he clasped 
Julian in his arms and lifted him to his feet. But for 
the iron physique of a strong Englishman, Julian 
must have been dead, and the pilgrim evidently 
looked upon his power of endurance as something 
almost supernatural. By the help of his companion's 
arm he turned himself and surveyed the extraordinary 
scene in which he found himself placed. The skele- 
ton of a horse is not a pleasant thing. Anyone who 
has travelled a desert has seen it. It gives one a 
shock ; there is something so ghastly about it. The 
skeleton of a human being is twenty times more hor- 
rible when it has no associations with study or science 
or the use of medicine, when one sees it stripped by 
the carrion of the sky, lying exposed to the elements 
in all its horror. 

Julian saw this sight on every side of him multi- 
plied a thousand times, and at last he covered his 
eyes with his hands, and said aloud in his own lan- 
guage, “ Take me away from this awful place.” He 
had forgotten in his horror with whom he was. 
Some strange instinct told the pilgrim what the man 
said, and placing his arm around him he led him 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


43 


as well as he could across the bone-cumbered valley. 

It was a terrible journey for Julian, who dared not 
open his eyes, for he felt certain his reason would 
desert him if he did. Having crossed the valley they 
passed through a narrow ravine, at the bottom of 
which a mountain torrent made a deep bed. At the 
sound of the water Julian uncovered his eyes and 
looked at it with thankfulness as something whole- 
some, although its blackness and the depth in which 
it moved would have horrified those accustomed to 
pastures and a quiet life. 

On the side of this, in a sheltered nook a band of 
pilgrims was encamped, and once more Julian found 
himself amongst those who appeared to be friends. 
His appearance caused a great deal of animated con- 
versation, but he did not concern himself about it. 
His rescuer wrapped him in a large sheepskin, and 
laid him by the side of a fire of argols, and soon he 
fell into a deep, refreshing sleep. 

When he awoke, this man who had been his deliv- 
erer brought him (one great luxury of Tibet) a cup of 
buttered tea, which Europeans would describe as a 
horrible decoction made of tea siftings and flavoured 


44 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


with rancid butter. Soon after he had been refreshed 
by this wonderful drink the whole camp started into 
motion. 

Julian noticed that since his adventure they had 
lost some of their animals, and only a few wretched 
horses were left to assist them on their way. These, 
however, worked willingly enough, as anxious as 
the men themselves to get out of the position they 
were in. They went on through the ravine and into 
a valley where the temperature was milder. There 
was a deep lake here, but it was covered with ice ; 
the supply of fuel being very small the pilgrims did 
not dare to stay. They passed on and attempted to 
cross the river of the golden sand. 

Julian heard this name for it afterwards; at the 
time his mind was taken up with the extraordinary 
spectacle presented by the surface of the stream. It 
was completely frozen, but apparently a series of 
islands crossed it, and his first thought was that they 
could walk along these islands. 

He noted, however, something that attracted a 
great deal of attention from his comrades, and when 
they came close he was utterly stupefied by the sight 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


45 


which presented itself. The islands were formed 
simply by a troop of wild cattle which had attempted 
to cross the river at the moment of the concretion of 
the waters. They had been frozen into it — encrusted 
in the rapidly-formed ice. Their eyes had been 
picked out by birds of prey and much of the flesh 
had been taken as well. Their splendid heads, with 
their great horns upstanding, were raised up high as 
if in protest. Seeing this immediately after the awful 
burial ground the sight impressed Julian strangely. 
It made him feel how little life was valued in this 
mysterious country. He had already suspected that 
the Masters looked upon life as valueless, and that 
notable service only was what they cared for. He 
had been prepared to encounter this, but already he 
was face to face with something more dreadful. 

The nation, the elements in which it lived, alike 
seemed indifferent to cost or loss. The ice was so 
strong that it was very easy to walk by the side of 
the skeletons of these unfortunate creatures. Al- 
though the pilgrims were now in what seemed like a 
valley, as a matter of fact, a very high point of Upper 
Asia had been reached, and the cruelty of the north 


46 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


wind was something that no dweller in the West 
could realise. Long before Julian had crossed the 
river he had forgotten all about those unlucky ones 
whose bones he had seen lying in the valley, about 
the artistic results he was losing every moment, and, 
yet more surprising, about even himself. 

All he knew was the simple fact that the cold was 
killing him, and his especial friend among the pil- 
grims, the one who had twice rescued him from 
death, became very excited on observing his symp- 
toms. He was lifted on to one of the horses’ backs, 
and a small band of the pilgrims, taking the best of 
the horses, went on with him. 

The day was far advanced now, and it was im- 
possible for Julian to appreciate the scenery through 
which they had to pass. Vague visions returned to 
him in after years of grassy hills where banks were 
formed of masses of primrose-coloured flowers. He 
heard the great stream rushing far below, he saw in 
the distance the rolling mountains which filled the 
background. 

At the base of the hills which closed this valley 
were great spurs of bright sandstone, and in the val- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


47 


ley itself piles of stones were capped with flat slabs 
of white marble. At the first glance these white tops 
had the appearance of English bell tents, and Julian 
for a moment half expected to see some dear familiar 
red-coats pacing among them. But it was not so 
indeed. As a matter of fact, they had arrived at the 
great Tibetan Lamasery. Although it appears to be 
in a valley it really stands higher than the summit of 
Mont Blanc. Though Julian’s sight had grown dim 
with the fatigue, he observed a pile of stately build- 
ings arranged as if in imitation of the mountains, 
amphitheatrically. 

The highest building of all, which was also the 
largest, was surmounted by an extraordinary roof, 
which in the rays of the now setting sun seemed to 
be composed entirely of gold. Julian fancied, how- 
ever, that he could detect some figures upon it, and 
even in his extreme state of weariness resolved with- 
in himself that he would endeavour to find out what 
these were. The detachment of the body of pilgrims 
which had made itself into his especial escort, passed 
rapidly down the ravine through the valley, along a 
path which passed straight across the great valley of 


4 8 MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 

barley, and up to the very entrance of the great 
Lamasery. 

Here Julian got a vision of a number of persons, 
tall, severe-looking, with an ominous expression, 
dressed in white, with big yellow girdles clasped 
about the waist. These men approached him, and in 
a few moments he found himself lifted from his horse 
by strong arms. In a few moments more all the 
horrors of cold, of ice, and of the bitter journey had 
disappeared. He was in an interior, a strange one 
indeed, but for the moment he was sheltered, he was 
warmed, and he was fed. For a little while these 
facts were enough for him. 



MO RIAL THE MAH A IMA . 


49 


CHAPTER VI. 

Miss Riga had been one of the advanced teachers 
of the Woman's Rights movement many years be- 
fore she took charge of Daphne. Her relationship 
with Daphne was a very remote one. She was the 
second cousin of Daphnes father, but when poor 
Daphne with all her money and with all her beauty 
strayed into Chancery, Miss Riga was the nearest 
relation to be found who could take charge of her. 

It had been a great trouble to her for a long time, 
that she had seen and felt Julian’s distrust of her. 
She saw that when Daphnes majority was attained, 
and when Daphne had become his wife, she would 
once more herself be at the mercy of the world. 
Such a prospect was unsupportable to a woman of 
her ambition. Miss Riga in her experience of life 
had learned to look upon attractive women as crea- 
tures of another sphere. She had never been loved, 

more than that, she had never been liked. She had 

4 


50 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA . 


simply held to her rights as long as she had any, 
and after that fought her way. In Daphne's in- 
heritance and in Daphne's present wealth all her 
opportunity now lay. 

When Julian left England to obey the mysterious 
call, he left Daphne reluctantly enough in charge of 
this woman. He could not object to such a guardian, 
since Daphne had been guarded by her since child- 
hood. At the same time it annoyed him because of 
his great distrust. But very soon after his departure 
both Miss Riga and Daphne were in high spirits. 
Or, to speak more correctly, were in a remote kind 
of elation. Communications from a far-off world 
do not so much raise our spirits as change them. 
Daphne's beautiful face and figure seemed to be 
petrified into a statue expressive of all wonder and 
amazement ; while Miss Riga, sitting in her big arm- 
chair, laughed to herself, rapping her hands the 
while. She had an odd little trick, this weird old 
woman, of rapping the knuckles of her left hand 
with the palm of her right when she was delighted 
about anything. And she was very delighted now, 
for on the very day after Julian had sailed for India 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


51 


Daphne had received an extraordinary communica- 
tion. She awoke in the morning with an idea that 
someone had been with her, that a paper had been 
given her, that something had fluttered over her 
head. And when broad awake, sure enough, a paper 
lay close to her hand, a morsel of paper torn out of 
Julian’s favourite manuscript book. Daphne took 
the paper to Miss Riga, and asked her what she 
thought it meant. Miss Riga looked at it, took off 
her glasses, put them on again, reflected, then said : 
“ My dear, this is in no language known in this part 
of the world. It must be a message from Julian’s 
Master. I suppose it is in Sanscrit. Shall we go to 
the British Museum and see if anybody there can 
tell us what it means ? ” 

But there was no necessity for them to go to the 
Museum. Long before they were ready to start, a 
knock at the door announced the arrival of one of 
Julian’s friends — a Mr. Gray. Miss Riga, who was 
in a great fuss ready to depart (for it always took a 
couple of maids to set her in motion), immediately 
informed Mr. Gray of the matter in hand. “ Well, 


52 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


well,” he said, “you need not go to the British 
Museum ; I can read Sanscrit.” 

At this the message was shown to him. He looked 
at it, he read it, he stroked his beard, a long brown 
silky one, and then again he looked at the message 
and read it. Then he looked at the ladies, and 
said : 

“ Prepare yourselves.” 

“Oh,” said Miss Riga, “we are ready for any- 
thing; have we not suffered from losing our dear 
Julian ?” 

“Very well, then,” said Mr. Gray, “The message 
is simply this : — 

Throw these two houses into one , and make a great 
lamasery in London . Obey my orders , and /, the 
Master , will visit you and guide you.” 

(signed) MO RIAL. 

The two women looked at each other; Miss Riga 
rose from her chair — she was a very small woman, 
very attenuated, with a drawn look peculiar to 
some faces when success has not enlivened them. 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


3 


“ Daphne,” she said, “this is the great moment of 
your life and a great moment of mine. We must 
obey. Child, what right have we over Julian’s 
house ? ” 

“None that I know of,” said Daphne, “but 
if it is an order from his Master, I shall obey it 
at any hazard.” 

Miss Riga, putting the glasses on her face again, 
took up the paper with the message written on it 
and looked at it very seriously. 

“ Have you the slightest idea,” addressing herself 
to Mr. Gray, “ what a Lamasery is? ” 

“Well, yes,” said Mr. Gray, hesitating and laugh- 
ing at the same time, “it is a monastic establish- 
ment of the Buddhistic religion.” 

“A monastic establishment!” said Miss Riga; 
“are we to found one here?” 

“I have no idea,” said Mr. Gray; “ this matter is 
getting altogether beyond me. Do you know, Miss 
Royal,” he said addressing himself to Daphne, 
“that you promised, when Julian was at home, 
you would sit for me for the picture of the Tragic 
Muse.” 


54 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


Daphne roused herself with an effort. “Yes,” 
she said, “I remember quite well. Do you really 
want me to sit? ” 

“Should I have ever asked you/' he said, “if I 
did not ? ” 

“Mr. Gray,” said Miss Riga, in an impressive 
manner, “these trifles are out of place; Julian, 
Daphne and I have all alike been called to a great 
life of renunciation. By it we shall pass through the 
golden gates of sacrifice into the glorious hereafter, 
and every interest and every selfish thought has to 
be surrendered ; we live now only for our Master’s 
bidding. ” 

She said this very solemnly. Turning presently 
to Daphne she asked in a different tone, Which 
room could we use best to break an archway into 
Julian’s house? ” 

Daphne was a little startled by this sudden ques- 
tion and hesitated a moment. “Well, Auntie, dear, 
his studio joins our drawing-room.” 

“Yes, yes,” Miss Kirton said; “that will do very 
well. What a grand hall it will make if we can throw 
the two into one for meetings of the faithful.” 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


55 


“ What do you mean?” said Daphne, looking at 
her in amazement 

“ Don't you see?” said Miss Riga, turning sud- 
denly around. The old lady looked like a witch 
now, if ever a woman did. Her black hair, 
streaked slightly with grey, was usually thrown 
decorously over her temples, but she had pushed it 
back in her excitement. Her eyes were of a peculiar 
grey-green, and glittered like stars. When she was 
excited her shrivelled face and attenuated body ap- 
peared to be mere accessories to this peculiar bril- 
liance of expression. She fixed her eyes on Daphne, 
and the girl's answering gaze was at first full of 
steadiness, but afterwards faltered and grew dim. 

“ Julian would never object to what you do,” said 
Miss Riga, and “ Why of course not,” said Mr. Gray, 
rising and taking up his hat, “Julian is much too 
devoted a lover to make any difficulty where Daphne's 
wishes are concerned.” 

“ That is all right,” said Miss Riga with a winning 
smile, intended for Mr. Gray's benefit. 

She held out her hand as a cue for his departure. 

“ I think myself,” she said, holding his hand in 


5 ^ 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


hers, and fixing her queer eyes straight on his, “ I 
feel myself, that whatever Daphne does, specially 
under the direction of his Master, Julian will approve 
of. Don't you agree with me, Mr. Gray ? ” 

“ Why, yes," he said, “ have I not already said 
so. ” 

Arthur Gray having once got out of the house and 
a little way on the road, stopped in the street, lifted 
his hat, looked into it, and fell into a profound rev- 
erie. Probably if a brilliant policeman had found 
him he would have been taken into custody for some 
reason or other, for he certainly could not account 
for himself at that moment. All his thoughts were 
of Daphne Royal. “ What on earth is that old woman 
up to ! ” he said to himself. “ I hate her, so I came 
away ; and I was a fool to do it, for if I had stayed 
I might have learned what her little game is. That 
silly fool, Julian, has gone away on a wild-goose 
chase to the North Pole, or some other salubrious 
region, and left this dear girl to take her chance. She 
is not fit for it, she is no match for that money-mak- 
ing hag. I must keep up to the old lady's game, 
and I must fall into it whether I like it or not, for 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


57 


I will not leave Daphne alone in her clutches. ” 

Daphne, sitting in the chair into which she sank 
when Gray read the translation of the Sanscrit mes- 
sage, was now looking earnestly at Miss Riga, and 
studying her face with an anxiety worthy of a better 
cause. 

44 Dear auntie,” she said, 44 are you convinced 
that this message came from Julian's Master ? ” 

44 Have you any reason to doubt it ? ” asked Miss 
Riga, turning round fiercely, lifting her glasses and 
staring at Daphne. 

44 I have no reason to doubt it,” said Daphne, 

4 4 but at the same time I cannot see what proof 
there is. ” 

44 Why, my dear,” said the old lady, 44 who else 
should send you messages, fluttering in the air in the 
middle of the night ? Who else should take the trouble 
to tell you what to do ? Julian has been selected for 
a great mission. Julian himself, his mere body and 
his purse are at the service of his Master in a remote 
country, of which we know nothing. We, my child, 
are custodians of his wealth in the meantime, and 
his wealth is to be used in the service of the Master. 


58 MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 

Don't you see that ? Do you doubt the existence of 
this Master, whose simple order has made you sacrifice 
your lover, your peace, your comfort, and your home? 
If you could let Julian go on such an enterprise with- 
out a protest, surely you could obey the orders of 
his Master in trivialities, which have only to deal 
with party walls and money matters.” 

“Yes, yes, dear aunt, you are quite right,” said 
Daphne. “ To part with Julian was a great trial on 
my faith. If I could believe so far, nothing else 
should be difficult; but it is so hard to decide any- 
thing when he is away from me.” 

“ Well, well,” said Miss Riga, contentedly, taking 
a comfortable chair by the side of the fire, “ you 
should have thought of that before you let him go. 
Having let him go you must do your best in his 
absence, and consider yourself, so to speak, vice- 
president of this great movement. 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


59 


CHAPTER VII. 

When Daphne went up to her room that evening, 
she was filled with a very curious feeling of terror 
and anxiety. She had a large bureau standing be- 
tween the two windows. In it she kept all her treas- 
ures, and these treasures were of some value, she 
being a young woman of property. She had her 
jewel-case here, she had her bank-book, and she had 
a great many other papers and different documents 
of importance. But none of these amounted to 
anything in her sight, compared to a certain paper 
which had been put inside this desk and locked on 
the night before Julian went away. 

This was a paper very quickly drawn up by his 
solicitor, meaning a very great deal to her, and it was 
simply a power of attorney over the whole of Julian 
AiundePs property given to her. It, of course, re- 
mained in abeyance until her twenty-first birthday. 
But that was close at hand, only a few days off. All 


6o 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


her life, since she and Julian had talked of love, she 
had expected that that day would be her wedding- 
day, instead of which it had been made into a day 
on which she had complete control over all his pro- 
perty while he himself seemed lost to her for ever. 

But this was not troubling her so acutely for the 
moment ; she was very well aware that Miss Riga 
knew that she held this paper. She was very well 
aware that whatever Miss Riga decided should be 
done with regard to Julian's possessions could be 
done by herself, and she had a terrible certainty that 
Miss Riga's will was so strong that whatever she de- 
cided to be done would be done. What then did it all 
mean? — that is what Daphne wondered as she sat 
down, her bureau unlocked and this paper before her. 
By its side lay another paper which she had placed 
there, and this was the mysterious message from 
the Master — a message which bore no conviction to 
her heart, which seemed to her nothing but a scrap 
of Julian's note-book, and scrawled hastily in a 
disguised hand. 

No doubt Daphne was naturally an incredulous 
person. Some people would have been convinced 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


6l 


by the fact of this message coming to her when she 
was alone, but Daphne was not convinced ; she was 
very doubtful. She thought it was some freak of 
one of the maids, and she would have thought it had 
been a dream if the paper had not been actually there. 

But she could not believe that it came from a su- 
pernatural power. Nevertheless she saw that her 
duty lay plain before her. This message had one 
word in it which she could read. It was written in 
Sanscrit, but it was signed by a single name, and 
that name was Morial. Against this signature she 
could say nothing,- she could do nothing, for the name 
of Morial was the name always given by Julian's 
Master. A message signed in this way she must obey. 
Having arrived at this point of decision she locked 
up the papers and got up with a deep sigh from 
the bureau. 

As she did so, a strange thing happened. When 
Julian had been painting Mortal's portrait, and talk- 
ing to her about it, and telling her what a beautiful 
figure and what a lovely face the Master possessed, 
she came by degrees to realise the presence of this 
unseen being. She had acquired a vivid idea of what 


62 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


he was like, and when she saw his counterfeit present- 
ment on Julian's canvas, she recognised the face of 
her fancy, and the figure of her dreams. Now she 
rose from her bureau and turned to the room, it ap- 
peared to her that the door opened and this same 
figure entered. It advanced towards her, not near, — 
she felt as if its presence would have killed her if it 
came too near. 

It appeared to her that scorching rays emanated 
from it. It paused in the centre of the room, extend- 
ing one hand towards her, and then words entered 
her mind, though she heard no voice, “ Child,'’ said 
this figure, “ obey me ; do not allow your foolish rea- 
son and your weak intellect to stand between you and 
the great life. I will guide you if you will obey me." 

Daphne hesitated in silence, but a moment after 
the words reached her, it appeared to her that now 
Julian's own Master had spoken to her. She clasped 
her hands together, she fell on her knees, and a 
moment later she fell forward on the floor, and in 
the attitude of subjection which a disciple always 
adopts. 

Daphne was very ill all that night. Her maid and 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 63 

old Miss Riga were up with her, tending her care- 
fully, for she seemed to be in a fever. The old family 
doctor was sent for, but could not tell what was the 
matter with her, except that she was feverish and 
quite prostrated. In the middle of the morning Miss 
Riga came to her and said, “Now, Daphne, tell me, 
shall I obey the mysterious orders, or shall I act 
according to the dictates of common sense ? ” 

4 'Obey them,” said Daphne, very decidedly, "but 
it does not seem to me,” she went on, "you have 
very clear directions. What are these orders ? ” 

"I have them,” said Miss Riga, very positively, 
"The message came to me last night. We have 
to found a great school of divine teaching in this 
country. We have to kill all the false religions of 
the earth. We have to plant the pure spirit of 
Buddhism in their stead. Is not this a great mis- 
sion, dear child? Have we not work to do that any 
women would be proud of?” 

" Indeed, yes,” said Daphne. “ Do as you like,” 
she said. "You must attend to all the details.” 

Miss Riga leaned over and whispered into her ear, 
"Child,” she said, "it will cost money, but this 


64 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 


money is all given to the Master, and for the great 
work. You will pay it, you promise me, if I obey 
his orders.” 

“Why, yes,” said Daphne. “Of course, if you 
obey his orders, I shall obey mine in giving you 
what money is necessary ; but, dear aunt, let me see 
these orders — let me know what you have to do,” 

“Not yet,” said Miss Riga; “you are not strong 
enough. I am quite capable of learning the full 
effulgence of this inspiration. You know, my child, 
that in my family we have had second-sight for more 
than ten generations. It is natural to us to see the 
unseen, and to hear words that are not spoken. Let 
me, therefore, listen to the mysterious utterances 
that come to me and obey them. You know very 
well that I am working only according to the wishes 
of the Master, who has taken Julian from you. And, 
my child, you must know that the more rapidly we 
fulfil his behest, the sooner he will give Julian back 
to you.” 

Naturally this argument had great weight with 
Daphne, who in her present state of complete ac- 
quiescence and surrender of her own judgment was 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 65 

very unhappy. She fully realised that if Julian had 
been with her it would have been possible to make 
a more critical analysis of the situation. She was 
not strong enough alone. Once or twice she thought 
seriously of asking Mr. Gray whether that really was 
the interpretation of the message, whether it was 
really written in Sanscrit, and whether he really could 
read it. Then, when she made up her mind to this, 
the memory of the vision she had seen checked her. 
That was real ; therefore, she had nothing to say 
any more. 

She decided that her best and her most righteous 
course was that of obedient submission. She felt 
that she was in the midst of great mysteries both of 
earth and heaven. She could understand nothing, 
she could not see what object was to be gained for 
Julian by his being taken from his right work and 
being lost to the world as he was, nor could she un- 
derstand how she and her old aunt were to found a 
great religion. Lost in these perplexities, she re- 
solved to wait till circumstances gave her some new 
guidance, and in the meantime to sacrifice whatever 

she could for what appeared to be the great cause. 

5 


66 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


CHAPTER VIII. 

When Julian Arundel opened his eyes after his first 
deep sleep of exhaustion he was so surprised at what 
he saw that sleep fled from him altogether. He 
lay gazing and wondering whether he was still dream- 
ing or not. But his imagination had never conjured 
up a scene like this even in his most excited moments; 
and so he was fain to believe it real. 

He himself was laid on a low couch which was 
covered with sheepskin, a large wolfskin had been 
thrown over him, and the warmth was an absorbing 
delight in itself after the agonies of cold he had en- 
dured. The languor which held him in a quiet which 
seemed like that of a trance was simply nature's way 
of making recovery a pleasure. And what a pleasure 
it was, with such a sight to look idly at as he lay half 
dozing ! His couch was placed at the far end of a 
large and lofty room ; the walls and ceiling of this 
room were gilded ; and Julian noticed immediately 
the splendour of this gilding. He had never seen 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


67 


anything to equal it; and though the Tibetan gilding 
never shows to such supreme advantage as in the 
open air, lit by the sunshine, and setoff by the snow, 
still its beauty in a lamp-lit room is wonderful. The 
passion of the religious Tibetans for gilding is so great 
that a race of foreigners, the Pebonans from Bontan, 
are tolerated in the country solely because of their 
skill in this labour. Julian's love of light and colour 
was excited to the highest degree by the glow of this 
rich gilding, illuminated as it was by the light of a 
number of coloured lamps. The mystic Buddhist 
“ mani ” was written over the door. “Om mani 
padmi noum,” in dark blue letters. Julian was fam- 
iliar with this sentence, as every dabbler in occultism 
must be, and like every one else had made his own 
individual guess at its meaning ; so that it seemed 
like a friendly spot in the scene. The air was laden 
with an intensely sweet scent, an odour which after- 
wards became a positive passion with him. The 
sweetness of the aromatic Tibetan pastilles is unlike 
any other fragrance in the world. But all these de- 
lights were forgotten, when at last Julian was suffi- 
ciently aware to realise that the room was lined with 


68 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


figures. Lined literally, for the lamas were ranged 
round the walls like statues. All wore the yellow 
robe of the higher grades. They knelt, immovably, 
as if fast locked in eternal prayer. No movement 
was made, except that sometimes a gaunt hand would 
touch the rosary which each one held — and some- 
times a face was lifted a little, and glance thrown 
round the room. 

The faces fascinated Julian, so that he could only 
look from one to the other, studying them intently. 
They looked as if carved out of rock ; severe, cold, 
forbidding, and, in some instances, savage. But the 
glances of those fierce eyes, when lifted ! — glances 
such as wild animals on the watch might throw upon 
their prey ! — covert, fierce, menacing. 

“ And these,” said Julian to himself, “ are the lamas 
of Tibet! the priests of the greatest religion in the 
world ! I would as soon be Daniel in the lions’ den 
as a peaceful European in this lamasery ! They look 
like committing any kind of cannibalism. But how 
I wish I could take a sketch of them, kneeling there 
as immovably as a row of Egyptian mummies ! ” 

Julian had one treasure which he carried slung 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 69 

round his neck by a chain ; the only piece of luggage 
he had succeeded in bringing into Tibet. This was 
a sketch-book. He knew it would be madness to 
attempt to use it until he had ascertained whether his 
formidable gaolers were friendly or not ; yet the 
longing within him made him stir a little and move 
his hand toward his breast, where this treasure was 
hidden. 

Instantly there was a stir among the lamas ; they 
rose to their feet, slowly, as became men roused from 
their devotions. They approached him, and in a 
moment Julian was surrounded by these men, who 
scrutinised him with great interest, and talked together 
in the soft Tibetan tongue. It was the first time J ulian 
had heard it, and he listened with a keen delight and 
interest, wondering whether he should ever master its 
meaning. It was strange to lie there like some exotic 
animal, and know that these men were discussing him 
— and possibly his fate ! — and yet be unable even to 
conjecture what they said. He could guess nothing 
from the expression of their faces : the stoniness of 
the features did not alter when they talked. Only the 
occasional flashes of the fierce, small eyes, indicated 


70 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


(as he thought) the vulture-like spirit repressed by 
monasticism. 

“ I would as soon be on the mountains or in that 
dreadful graveyard as here, in spite of the warmth 
and comfort,” thought Julian, dejectedly, as he sur- 
veyed the crowd about him. 

“ How am I to get out of this place?” was his next 
reflection, and he half rose on his couch from the 
mere instinct of flight. The effect of this was rather 
startling. The lamas all closed together immediately 
in the direction in which he moved. It was done so 
instantaneously and without any word of command, 
that he recognised very plainly that he was in close 
custody. 

“ Not much use thinking of escape,” he reflected 
grimly. “ I must wait and see this out. If I am to 
be saved, I suppose I shall be saved.” 

Here spoke the true spirit of the disciple, who hoped 
to succeed according to the preaching which is called 
Esoteric. Julian lay down again, resolving simply 
to wait and watch. Very soon he was rewarded by 
something happening which concerned himself. A 
panel or gilded wall close to him moved; he saw it 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


71 


was a cunningly contrived secret door. An inferior 
lama entered, closing it behind him, and, advancing 
to the others, addressed them. What he said appeared 
to cause some discussion among them, but before 
long they evidently came to a unanimous decision. 
As a result of this one of them approached Julian to 
motion to him to rise. This he did with great alacrity, 
feeling himself quite recovered and decidedly curious 
to know his fate. His magnificent constitution had 
stood him in good stead during his recent ordeal, 
and the long rest he had had — for, as a matter of fact, 
though he did not yet know it, he had lain in a pro- 
found sleep for hours in this warmed and scented 
room — had entirely restored him. He felt now ready 
to face any enemy, prepared to encounter any danger 
that stood in his path. The lamas motioned to him 
to proceed to the great door of the room over which 
was the mystic inscription. He advanced, guarded 
among them as though he was under an escort of 
soldiers. The door opened into a vestibule white- 
washed both on the walls and on the ceiling. The 
doors were outlined and decorated in red and yellow 
with a quaintness that pleased Julian's artistic fancy, 


72 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


even in this moment of uncertainty and suspense. 
He was in a darkness of profound ignorance ; he knew 
not, he could not guess, where he was being taken, 
or for what purpose. They led him through several 
corridors, all whitewashed and decorated in the same 
manner, and presently emerged into the open air. 
He saw then the wonder of the night which arrested 
his attention so completely that he really forgot his 
own danger, and perhaps for the moment even his mis- 
sion. The sky was a black-blue colour, lit by the stars 
which seemed so large that he fancied that he was 
almost in another world. The moon was at its full 
and shed a flood of white light all over the valley, light- 
ing up the gilded domes of the lamasery, and giving 
to them a strange cold brilliance. He saw at a second 
glance that this lamasery was like a township, so large 
was it. It was composed of a number of buildings 
all arranged one above another. Away on the other 
side of the valley was the fortress. He could just 
distinguish it, although it looked dark and gloomy. 
But here in the home of the great religion everything 
seemed to glitter. His delight in this scene was so 
evident that the lamas noticed it, and seemed mo- 


MO RIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


73 


rosely amused. Probably they looked upon him as 
a poor heathen who had never seen anything decent 
before. He was not given long in which to satisfy 
the pleasure he felt ; they passed one or two of the 
buildings, and then paused before the door of one. 
It was standing open ; to Julian's surprise — in fact, 
amazement — two Chinamen were in charge of the 
door, one on each side of it. These gentlemen evi- 
dently expected the great body of visitors who arrived, 
for they simply bowed with all celestial politeness, 
and ushered them in. The building which Julian 
now entered appeared to him to be composed of a 
vast suite of rooms, all whitewashed, and very simply 
furnished. None of the splendour he had left was 
here. At the same time, there was abundant comfort. 
The large room into which he was first taken was 
occupied by a whole crowd of Chinese, who seemed 
immensely interested in his appearance. The lamas, 
however, maintained a species of human wall around 
him. Evidently they considered him a sacred charge, 
whether for good or evil he knew not. Passing 
through this room, they entered another, somewhat 
more luxurious, in which a few Chinamen, evidently 


74 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


of superior grade, were busy talking together and 
looking over papers. They, too, were interested in 
him, but in a more civilised fashion. Two more 
rooms of this character were passed, and then they 
entered one which was fully furnished in the Chinese 
manner. Its aspect appeared to him most fantastic 
and delightful, for Julian had never been to China, 
and knew nothing more of its charms of decoration 
than can be learned in Regent Street. A young 
Chinaman, most beautifully dressed, received the 
company.at the door of this chamber, and, with many 
bows of the elegant sort, ushered them into the room. 
At the far end, upon a kind of a throne covered with 
a red cloth, was seated a Chinaman, who appeared 
to Julian to be a man of some sixty years of age, and 
who had great dignity of appearance. Before him 
was a little table of elaborate lacquer work, on which 
was an inkstand, some writing materials and a little 
silver vase containing snuff, which Julian looked at 
with longing gaze, only wishing he had it at home 
as a studio property. — But he had now reached a 
time when it was impossible any longer to gratify his 
artistic sensibilities. He had at last realised the posi- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


75 


tion in which he was placed, and clearly this was the 
guest house or Lamasery ; clearly also the guests now 
occupying it were nothing more or less than a Chinese 
Embassy. This fate — the awful fate of falling into 
the hands of the Chinese — Julian had seriously hoped 
to escape. It was the one thing he had dreaded, in 
spite of all his heroism, for dreadful are the tales told 
to enterprising travellers of the tortures inflicted by 
the Chinese on those whom they think may be spies, 
or who may possibly in any way afford them informa- 
tion. Suddenly, without a moments preparation, 
he found himself in the face of this danger. What 
was to be done he knew not. Having entered the 
room of the ambassador, the lamas withdrew from 
their prisoner, leaving him standing alone in the cen- 
tre of the floor, they themselves ranging against the 
wall in the quaint fashion of most of the Oriental 
races. The young Chinaman who appeared to be 
master of the ceremonies, and who certainly com- 
manded every grace possible, now held along conver- 
sation with the Ambassador, who during the whole 
of it surveyed Julian with the greatest curiosity and 
interest. The result of this, after some time, was a 


76 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


course of interrogations in various languages. The 
young Chinaman advanced, and with a deep bow 
addressed Julian in Tibetan. In reply to this Julian 
adopted the simple expedient of shaking his head and 
saying, “I don’t understand you.” 

The ambassador then addressed him in Hindu- 
stanee, and to Julian’s regret he had to make the same 
reply in the same manner. After this, the ambas- 
sador evidently tested him in several Indian dialects. 
All this was perfectly hopeless, and it was very evi- 
dent to Julian that, if he chose to hold his tongue, no 
cross-examination could take place, for these men 
would never think of addressing him in their own 
language. As a matter of fact, he did know a little 
Chinese, having met some Chinese ambassadors who 
came to London on a visit, and who made themselves 
most charming at many of the Piccadilly and Gros- 
venor Square receptions. Their sweet manners and 
bland expressions had so delighted him that he had 
fraternised with them a little, and had persuaded 
them to teach him a few sentences of their language 
and some of its fundamental rules. He was perfectly 
aware that if he chose he could explain quite intel- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


77 


ligibly to the ambassador that he was an Englishman 
who wished to penetrate the interior of Tibet, with 
no political or ulterior object. But would it be wise 
to do this, or would it be better to be silent? How 
was it possible for him to tell ; his mind was tom 
between the two alternatives, and he looked wildly 
around, searching for something that would give him 
an idea of what to do ; and this something came. 
The walls of the chamber were hung with sombre 
draperies of black silk, embroidered in dull gold. 
Right across these he suddenly saw some characters 
which instantly attracted his attention, not only be- 
cause they were of vivid crimson, of blood colour or 
of fire, but because they came and went while he 
looked. He then suddenly remembered that he was 
no ordinary wanderer, no ordinary mortal at the 
mercy of an official, but that he was a disciple of 
Morial, and if he was worthy to be a disciple, he 
would be guided. Standing, therefore, in the midst 
of these crowds of enemies of two nationalities, he 
recovered his calmness, and waited to see what the 
mystic words would be which he presumed would 
convey to him his order. 


78 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Daphne also was looking at the stars on this moon- 
light night, and wondered why, if they looked down 
upon Julian and herself alike, they could not give her 
any message from him. For Daphne was one 
accustomed to question the dictates of Providence 
and to attempt to scale heights which never could be 
compassed. She was standing on the balcony of her 
London house when she looked at these same stars 
which Julian saw flaming like suns in the clear Ti- 
betan sky. To Daphne they seemed, in all their splen- 
dour and beauty, very impotent and pale and small. 
Hers was the old cry just now — “Is there no mercy 
in the pitiless sky,” for she was troubled and harassed 
beyond words, and it seemed to her that for Julian to 
leave her with such great responsibilities and to face 
such great dangers was no right thing for any just 
Master to have ordered. The balcony on which she 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


79 


stood was outside the windows of the drawing-room 
of her house. It was covered in with trellis work 
over which a Virginian creeper was trained, and many 
a time when they had had parties here in the summer 
evenings of the season, Daphne had sat out among 
these creepers, and talked and laughed, like the light- 
hearted girl she had been. Now she wondered 
whether she ever had been such a girl, whether these 
merry parties, so common in every-day life had ever 
taken place here. It was late in the night, indeed 
it was nearly morning, for just now when Daphne 
stepped out on to the balcony Julian had entered the 
room of the Chinese Embassy. Perhaps in her sym- 
pathetic nature she felt the trouble he was in, or per- 
haps it was her own troubles that made her so rest- 
less, but at all events she had not been able to sleep. 
She had never liked her own room since these mys- 
terious missives had begun to float down upon her in 
the night, and when she could not rest she had a 
habit of going into the open air. The wide balcony 
outside the drawing-room window was a delightful 
and quiet spot. She was sitting here, like a ghost 
wrapped in a white cloak, and thinking, too, more 


8o 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


like a ghost than an ordinary girl who should have 
had every hope and comfort in life. 

“What can it all mean?” she was saying to her- 
self. “Why is everything so eerie and unnatural just 
now, and, what is more, so horribly uncomfortable. 
Not that I should mind this. I only wish I was away 
with Julian on his dangerous journey, for then I 
should feel I was doing something real. But why 
should we be worried out of our lives about what 
seems like nothing? I suppose it is all right, but 
how can I tell? I shall never know until Julian 
comes back.” 

Having come to this conclusion for the hundredth 
time, she rose up and went back into the drawing- 
room, and then paused on her way, as she always 
paused now, to look at the great change which had 
been effected in it. In one wall an immense arch 
had been made, heavily curtained, for the work was 
now quite completed. Neither money nor trouble 
had been spared to get it rapidly done. Why, no 
one knew, only these were the orders from the mys- 
terious source whence all the new orders came. The 
curtains were looped back after the manner of cur- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


81 


tains on the stage, drawn up in the centre. And 
through this great space Daphne could see the dim, 
shadowy interior of Julian’s painting room, his old 
studio. This very night the room, as well as the 
drawing-room of her house, had been thronged with 
visitors — people whom she had never seen or heard 
of before, and most of them people she did not like, 
even when she saw them. It annoyed her that this 
crowd should be in possession of Julian’s sanctum in 
his absence and without his leave, but what could 
she do, or what could she say ? At the far end of 
the studio stood Julian’s largest painting easel, and 
on it was a picture framed most splendidly in a frame 
which had doors and a strong lock. These doors 
were always safely fastened, except at special mo- 
ments when Miss Riga herself would place a little 
golden key in an elaborate lock, and with much cere- 
mony open it. The mystery then revealed was Ju- 
lian’s portrait of Morial the Mahatma. On the pre- 
vious evening this portrait had been shown to a select 
few. Daphne thinking of it again began to walk from 
end to end of the two great rooms, pondering in her 

mind what it all could mean and what was right for 

6 


82 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


her to do. She thought over all that Miss Riga had said 
to this select few who had remained after the others 
had departed. Miss Riga had made a kind of little 
speech to them, which she had evidently thought 
over and rehearsed beforehand, and for which Daphne 
was wholly unprepared. 

“My friends, ” said Miss Riga, “the Master has 
greatly distinguished us. He has chosen this spot as 
the centre of the new religion, which is indeed simply 
the oldest religion in the world and the only true 
one. He has chosen those who dwell in this house 
as his disciples to do his will. The strongest he has 
taken away ; for the time being we have lost the one 
whom we ought to lean on. Julian Arundel has gone, 
at his Masters call, into Tibet to meet his Master 
face to face and receive his teaching, so that he may 
bring it back fresh from the fountainhead into this 
country. In the meantime, we women, who, be- 
cause we are women, never can become disciples of 
a high grade, are yet distinguished as women have 
never been before, and perhaps never will be again. 
This is not because of our own merit, but because we 
are needed. This is to be a great movement in this 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


S3 


country. Its present religion will fall and give place 
to that of which it is a mere offshoot — a mere babe. 
The light of the true Esoteric teaching, that which is 
not mere Buddhism but inspired Buddhism, is to 
spring up here in the midst of London, the capital of 
a Christian country. And we, Daphne Royal and I, 
are the poor weak creatures chosen to carry out this 
great work until stronger ones can join us. We must 
fulfil our task nobly, looking for the end. Think of 
the great moment when the Master, who appeared in 
this very room to the inspired artist who painted the 
portrait, shall be able to enter it bodily; think of the 
great moment when we have made this place suffi- 
ciently purified for the Master to enter it in the flesh. 
That is what he wants ; he wants this place made fit 
to be a true Lamasery, and a place in which he could 
find a home if he needed it. We cannot do this 
altogether alone, for there is much to do. Already 
we have received orders that would tax our strength 
beyond what is possible. We must have a little 
band of devoted workers to surround us and support 
us — support us in the true spirit of pure religion, for 
the world is a very hard place to live in, and never 


84 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


so hard as when one is trying to fight ones way to a 
higher life. ” 

This was the sum and substance of Miss Riga’s 
memorable speech, with which she celebrated the 
occasion of the founding of what she called a “ Lodge. ” 
Daphne had confused ideas, gathered from reading 
novels more than anything else, of the system adopted 
by the Freemasons which they had borrowed from 
the Rosicrucians, and it was clear to heron reflecting 
over it that Miss Riga had been reading up the system 
of Freemasonry and was proposing to adopt an 
imitation of it. 

‘‘But what are these people to do, what are they 
to be?” Daphne questioned and questioned. Although 
it was very late when the little group of the elect left 
the house, Daphne had learned before she went to 
her room that several of them really proposed to 
enter the mystic lodge. This meant much more than 
might seem apparent at first sight. Daphne had 
heard with much surprise that two of these persons 
proposed to take up residence in the house on the 
very next day. They were enthusiasts, fanatics, who 
thought themselves doing as great a deed in surrender- 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


85 


ing their home ties as was Julian in his terrible pil- 
grimage. What most troubled Daphne was the fact 
that Miss Riga refused now to take her into her con- 
fidence. She assured her, as she assured the other 
devotees, that she was receiving letters from the 
Master. She told her that she could not for the pres- 
ent show them to her or to any one else, but prom- 
ised to do so later. In the meantime she demanded 
from her trust and obedience. Daphne, who had 
plenty of courage, would have refused this if it had 
not been for that vision which she had herself seen 
of Morial himself. The entanglement was one which 
she was unable to see through. Nevertheless she 
was very unhappy in realising the tremendous change 
that was about to be made in her home life. For, 
on the very next day, the houses which had been 
one her own, and one Julian's, were to be made into 
the strange thing which Miss Riga called a Lam- 
asery. Miss Riga's definition of it was a place in 
which people dwelt who had given up ordinary life, 
with all its claims and its attractions, and were 
ready by discipline to become true disciples. Walk- 
ing up and down, Daphne pondered very seriously 


86 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA. 


over the whole position, and spared herself no painful 
criticism. She brought before her minds eye the 
two new disciples, the two original members of the 
“ Lodge?” of Eastern wisdom in the West. One 
was a Mrs. Flite, a lady whose acquaintance Miss 
Riga had very recently made, with whom she had 
struck up an ardent friendship, and whom she 
habitually spoke of as a true soul, “the same as 
myself/' Mrs. Flite was one of those peculiar wrecks 
left after a youth of extreme prettiness. She was 
small — petite — with a tiny face highly rouged, lit up 
by dark eyes full of arch meanings. At the first 
glance she seemed like a woman of thirty, for she 
wore a fair, curly wig which reached her eyebrows, 
and carried herself with much of the gaiety of a girl. 
This lady, who had hitherto cared for nothing but 
parties and social gatherings of any sort, had now 
become an earnest neophyte in the new faith, and 
was ready to take any vows or to make any sacrifice 
in the cause. The other new disciple, Mr. Foster, was 
an exceedingly tall young man, who appeared to 
possess immense accumulations of learning. He 
seemed to be so profoundly acquainted with every 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 87 

science and art that Miss Riga and Mrs. Flite both 
assured him that he must have passed innumerable 
incarnations in order to be so wise at such an early 
age. He also announced that he was willing to give 
up the brilliant career before him in secular life, and 
endeavour at any cost to learn how to become a 
Mahatma if Miss Riga would but accept him. He 
also was accepted. Daphne thought over the scene 
with a keen feeling of rebellion. She did not want 
these people in her house. She did not know them, 
and she did not like them. What did it mean ? Why 
should they come ? Within her breast had risen a 
feeling of strong protest. 

She was on the eve of going to Miss Riga, rousing 
her, and telling her she would have her own way. 
The thought of doing this had come to her, and she 
paused in the middle of the great drawing-room 
thinking what she should do, when suddenly she 
gave a faint shriek and fled to the door. Then tak- 
ing her courage in both hands she turned round, 
walked back into the room, and looked through the 
arch into Julian's studio. Yes, she was not mistaken, 
it was no illusion. There was the writing on the 


88 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


wall — the blood-red characters — they came and 
went like lambent gleams of fire. A message was 
written there for her, and it was the same message 
that Julian read on the wall of the room in the 
lamasery of Tibet ! 


MO AVAL THE MAHA TMA . 


89 


CHAPTER X. 

These were the words which Julian saw written upon 
the wall at the same time as Daphne, although 
these two were separated by the great span of the 
world. That it was no ordinary writing was only 
too evident, for it came and went just like letters ot 
fire, that might be blown out and then burn again. 
Julian stood regarding them in wonder and awe, but 
presently his attention was attracted by hearing the 
ambassador and his secretary talking together. Al- 
though he knew very little Chinese, he knew enough 
to follow their conversation. To his horror he 
gathered that they had decided to claim him as a 
prisoner and take him to China, right across Western 
Tibet. Not even the possible tortures he might have 
suffered if at once treated as a spy alarmed him so 
much as the idea of this journey. Eight months of 


90 


MORTAL THE MALTA TMA. 


wasted, useless travelling, and then to fall into the 
hands of Chinese officials, and be practically as far as 
ever from his Master, and far, indeed, from his own 
home. This must be prevented ; what should he do ? 
Again the letters came flaming out, and he instantly 
concluded that here must be his guide. Where was 
the crimson star ? What was it ? He looked all 
round the room hoping to find some tangible symbol, 
obeisance to which might win him favour in sight of 
the officials. But there was nothing of the sort any- 
where. A deep dejection fell upon him, he had no 
idea how to act. He stood still, having thoroughly 
examined the room, looking at the ambassador and 
trying to hear all that he said, for he knew very well 
that his fate lay in this man's hands. 

And, as he stood there, silent, hopeless, and horror- 
stricken at the condition he found himself in, he sud- 
denly saw something which electrified him. As the 
ambassador sat there making some notes, and speak- 
ing the while to his secretary, over his head, in the air 
that a moment since was empty, appeared a crimson 
star ! perfectly clear in outline and brilliant in colour. 
Julian could trace it plainly. It was formed by the 


MO AVAL THE MAHATMA . 


91 


double triangle with the point downwards. Here 
must be his chance, his safeguard ; the supernatural 
again was leading him ! His confidence returned ; 
he flung away his own judgment, and obeyed the 
mystic guidance. Instantly he fell on his knees. 
The ambassador and secretary looked at him in the 
utmost amazement. 

“ What is this man kneeling for?” said the am- 
bassador. 

“1 cannot guess,” replied the secretary. 

Julian resolved now to fling aside the caution 
which appeared to be useless, and to speak to the 
ambassador. 

“I am kneeling,” he said in Chinese, speaking 
with some difficulty, but clearly enough, “ to the 
Crimson Star.” 

The ambassador rose with a start from his seat ; 
he was seized with a sudden and powerful agitation, 
which evidently perplexed the secretary as much as 
Julians action had done. Ki-Chan, the ambassador, 
came hastily from his place and advanced to Julian, 
his face working with a strong emotion which he 
could not conceal. Indeed, he did not seem to make 


92 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


any effort to conceal it ; he was too entirely over- 
come. The secretary advanced to him and touched 
him on the shoulder. This recalled him a little to 
himself, and he immediately gave a gesture of com- 
mand, dismissing all who were present except Julian 
and the secretary. The secretary, however, appeared 
to Julian to stay of his own accord, and Ki-Chan evi- 
dently did not like this. Recovering himself suffi- 
ciently to speak to him with politeness he asked 
him to go also. 

“ Now/' said the ambassador when they were quite 
alone; “rise, the star has been recognised and has 
acknowledged the recognition. Who are you, tell 
me, and whence do you come?" 

Julian looked at him in the greatest doubt and per- 
plexity. Should he tell him — was it not madness to 
talk of his Master to a Chinese official ? to tell such a 
man as this that his aim was to penetrate into the in- 
terior of Tibet, a region that the Chinese officials them- 
selves had never succeeded in entering ? But a kind of 
despair fell on him at the thought of being, as he was, 
so completely in this man’s power. If he did not 
find a friend in him what hope had he ? None ; he 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


93 


would simply be taken a prisoner across the steppes 
of Tartary into China. He had just come to this con- 
clusion when Ki-Chan, who had been observing his 
doubt with keen anxiety, approached him and spoke 
with great earnestness : 

“ You could not see the Crimson Star, you could 
not recognise it if you were not a servant of the great 
Moriah That you see the star above my head shows 
you that I am one of his trusted servants crowned by 
his special mark. Surely then you need not hesitate 
to trust me ? ” 

This argument decided Julian ; he hesitated no 
longer. In lame and halt Chinese, but with sufficient 
clearness to be understood, he began to tell the am- 
bassador the simple facts which brought him into this 
strange situation. Ki-Chan listened as to a wild and 
thrilling romance. At the same time Julian noticed 
that he was not so much overpowered by the super- 
natural part of the narrative as he was by the fact 
that this new disciple was an Englishman, who had 
come straight from London. Ki-Chan had met Eng- 
lishmen at Pekin, and had heard a great deal of 
their wonderful country. But he had never yet seen 


94 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


an Englishman within the borders of Tibet, a fact 
which evidently had singular importance with him, 
and interested him in a way which Julian could not 
then understand. 

“ You are the Master’s servant/’ said Ki-Chan. “I 
bow to the name of the Master as you bow to the 
Crimson Star. You are my charge from this mo- 
ment. When Modal permits two disciples to meet, it 
is with an object, and he thinks us poor fools if we 
cannot guess what we are to do without being told. 
I presume that my task is to send you under safe 
escort as far as I can into Hither Tibet. That is the 
one thing I can do, and, therefore, it is evidently 
what I have to do. You shall go on your journey as 
early on the morrow as I can have your escort ar- 
ranged. It will be a terrible journey, even as far as 
I can give you protection. For there are no halting 
places for caravans, there are no great Lamasaries 
like this, and, worse still, there are no roads. Rid- 
ing in the desert or across the steppes, as you will 
have to do for many a long league, will be nothing 
as a matter of difficulty compared to getting over the 
rocky parts of the mountains. I myself once made 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


95 


the pilgrimage, and I know how awful it is. You 
had better ride a yak, which goes slowly but surely. 
Horses, in leaping over these rocks, often stumble, 
however sure-footed they may be ; and camels die 
in the rarified air. Does not this account of what 
you have before you intimidate you ? ” he asked, 
looking curiously at Julian. 

“ Nothing will intimidate me now,” replied Julian, 
“ after what I have passed through. I am young and 
strong, and have but one object — to find the Master. ” 

“ But one object,” Ki-Chan repeated after him ; “ is 
. that really so ? I cannot doubt your word, as you 
have recognized the sign of the order, and therefore I 
will believe all that you say. But I must tell you that 
you stand in greater danger in this country, being 
an Englishman, than if you belonged to any other 
nation in the world. The Tibetans have an idea that 
the English is the one conquering race. No English- 
man has been permitted to enter the interior except 
poor Moorcroft, who, after studying the country and 
its traditions for twelve years, hoped to go back and 
enrich the West with his knowledge. But although 
they had allowed him to live here, he was really only 


96 MORI A L THE MAHATMA. 

a prisoner, although he did not know it. When it 
was found that he intended to go back to the West, 
he was murdered without hesitation. If you pen- 
etrate into the interior you will never return, unless, 
indeed, the Master thinks you worthy of protection. 
He has never thought it worth while to protect any 
man yet who has gone to him in his solitude. ” 

“ Is that so ? ” said Julian, somewhat doubtfully. 

“Yes, that is so,” replied the ambassador; “for 
you must know, of course, that those disciples who 
determine to leave the world and actually go to the 
feet of the Master, are idealists, fanatics, and it is 
only once in a century, perhaps not so often, that 
such men have the stamina in them to be of any 
use.” 

“Then you think,” said Julian, “that even if I 
reach him, I shall be no safer there than here? ” 

“Not unless you are that one aloe of a century,” 
replied the ambassador, with an inscrutable smile. 
“You will never know until the moment of your 
fate ; but I warn you that if you are protected now 
it may not always be so. And if the Tibetans, in 
those districts where the English have been heard 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


97 


of, discover you are an Englishman, your doom is 
sealed/' 

“But why?" said Julian, “they are already con- 
quered : they have nothing to fear." 

“Conquered!" answered Ki-Chan. “That, my 
friend, is one of those appearances which are entirely 
opposed to reality. The world itself is ruled by 
Morial. Is it likely, then, that another nation could 
conquer his native country ? " 

“What does the Chinese rule in Tibet mean, then ? " 
inquired Julian, much surprised at this new aspect 
of the matter. 

“It is simply nominal," replied the ambassador ; 
“or, to speak more correctly, it is useful in a simple 
way. The Chinese officials and soldiers keep the 
lower class of Tibetans in order and save the high 
class a great deal of trouble. The pure nobles in 
Tibet are magicians and they much prefer to hold 
their country without claiming it, being always en- 
gaged with much larger affairs than the government 
of a district of Asia. The one serious matter to them 
with regard to Tibet itself is that it should be for ever 

protected from incursions of any sort. The English 

7 


98 MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 

have never been permitted to come here, because 
they are credited with great powers, perhaps cor- 
rectly, I know not ; therefore conceal your nation- 
ality if you can.” 

“Tell me,” said Julian, returning to a subject which 
interested him much more deeply, “ how shall I know 
when I reach my journey's end? That has always 
troubled my mind a great deal more than any of the 
hardships by the way. For I am not like a person 
who is going to a certain place, the name of which 
can be found on the map, or at all events asked for ; 
I only know that the Master is hidden in the depths 
of this great country.” 

The ambassador fell into a deep reverie, walking 
about the room and thinking. Presently he roused 
himself, and, coming back to Julian, began to talk 
once more. 

“After a certain part of the journey is over,” he 
said, “it is impossible to give you any directions, 
as it is impossible to give you any escort, because 
neither my Chinese soldiers nor the ordinary Lamas 
will be permitted to go any further. You will enter 
a great region in the very heart of the country where 


MORI A L THE MAHA TMA. 


99 


the protection of man no longer exists ; the Great 
Ones keep it protected by their magic powers. I 
cannot direct you, although I have passed over the 
ground once — and once only. How could I direct 
you? There is no township to stay in, there is not 
even any dwelling to pass. I have been thinking in 
my mind of the great rocks I noticed, of the marvel- 
lous fountain which is said to give death instantly to 
the thirsty one who drinks, of the great pillar of gold, 
within which they say a spirit dwells imprisoned, 
which cries out for help to all who pass, or rather to 
the one who passes now and again in the course of 
long years. I have thought of the mystic tree, 
which stands alone in the desert, on every leaf of 
which there is a word written in blood. I have 
thought of these things, strange enough in them- 
selves, and land-marks by the way, but I know not 
how to tell you to go from one to the other. I sup- 
pose if you are to reach your journeys end 
the Master will find you some mode of guid- 
ance. ” 

“ Did he give you guidance? ” asked Julian. 

“ Yes,” replied the ambassador. 


IOO 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


“And what was it, who was it?” asked Julian, 
eagerly 

“I cannot tell you,” replied Ki-Chan, with a look 
of awful fear coming on his face, “ don't ask me to 
speak of it.” 

“Well, suppose I have passed all these things and 
found my way, still I want to know how shall I 
guess that I need go no further.” 

Ki-Chan began to speak in a very quiet voice, very 
quickly. “The Mahatma Morial dwells in a beauti- 
ful house in the most lovely spot on the whole world. 
It is like Paradise, full of sweet air and flowers, and 
everything delightful. There is grass, there are 
trees, there is water, and all more beautiful than any 
you have ever seen.” 

“Then I shall easily recognise this place,” said 
Julian. 

“ If you are allowed to see it,” answered Ki-Chan, 
in the same low, awestruck voice. “But when the 
Master does not choose to let it be seen by some 
poor wretch who has fought with hardship and 
danger in order to try and reach it, he simply veils 
it in a magic mist and it becomes invisible.” 



MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


IOI 


CHAPTER XI. 

The strange conversation between these two lasted 
until dawn, but at last fatigue compelled them to 
rest, and the ambassador dismissed Julian with a 
promise that he should be sent on his way as early 
in the day as was possible. He kept him as his 
own guest, and gave him one of the little guest- 
rooms in the house occupied by his followers. 
Julian fell asleep from utter weariness, although he 
was in a state of great excitement. It was a deep 
and contented sleep that came to him ; he felt that 
he was being taken care of, and that hp was really 
accomplishing his difficult task. He did not awake 
until the ambassador himself came to rouse him. 
“ My friend,” said he, “you have so much fatigue 
before you that I let you rest as long as possible. 
Rise now and breakfast. Your escort is ready, and 
the animals are waiting at the door/' 

A breakfast was brought in to Julian, which was 


102 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


an odd mixture of Chinese and Tibetan diet. He 
rather preferred to the Chinese dishes some rolls sent 
him by the Lamas, stuffed with sugar and meat. 
They also sent him a great jug of the buttered tea 
which is the one drink of the country. Julian began 
to think it really very nice, but he altered his opinion 
later on, when compelled to drink it in its primitive 
state day after day in the desert. This was the de- 
licious buttered tea of a rich Lamasery. As soon as 
he was ready, the ambassador and secretary escorted 
him out of the guests' building into the narrow lanes 
that ran between the houses forming the Lamasery. 
The Lamas were standing on every side, waiting to 
see him depart. Evidently all the circumstances of 
his arrival and departure aroused the greatest interest 
and curiosity among the Lamas and the Chinese 
retinue. This of course was not surprising as no 
one but himself and the ambassador knew the mean- 
ing of his journey. They passed, as they walked, a 
yard full of the great Tibetan dogs who howled 
furiously. Julian, who knew what these animals 
were kept for, looked at them half with admiration 
and half with a shudder of thankfulness to think 


MORTAL THE MAHA TATA. 


103 


that his body had not been thrown to them to form 
a meal this day instead of his being allowed to 
depart in safety. A little lower down was the place 
where the animals stood ready for his journey. They 
were a number of rough long-haired yaks, the strong 
bulls of the country. Half a dozen Chinese soldiers 
and half a dozen of the Lamas from the monastery 
constituted his escort. Jylian was placed upon the 
yak which was to carry him, and the others, mount- 
ing, immediately surrounded him, and in this manner 
they started. The ambassador coming up to him for 
a second, said in a low voice, “Be of good courage, 
my friend;” but Julian saw that he was afraid to 
speak before the others. He contented himself, 
therefore, with giving him a hearty farewell. The 
strange little cavalcade started with considerable 
difficulty, for yaks do not like being driven, and take 
some little time to get into order. 

For many days, the journey, although intensely 
interesting to Julian, was, comparatively speaking, 
eventless. They wended their way in among the 
hills, over grassy slopes at their base, making the 
journey as smooth as possible as long as this could 


104 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


be done. It seemed to him dull and weary work 
riding these bulls, which take so much longer getting 
over the ground than either camels or horses, and 
once or twice he observed to the leader of the Chinese 
guard, who always rode beside him, that it would 
have been much better to have used any other 
animals. 

“Wait,” said the Chinaman, “ till we get to the 
Burkhan Bota. If we had camels with us we should 
only leave them as corpses on that pass, and horses 
are perfectly useless when we come to making the 
descent.” 

Julian made no inquiries as to the horrors which 
lay before them. He thought he should find out 
quite soon enough what they were like. 

The time passed without his being able to keep any 
record of it. Night and day succeeded each other, 
and that was all he knew. He was unable to ascer- 
tain exactly how long this journey took, not having 
taken the precaution of making notes of the nights 
and days that passed from the commencment. It 
was certainly some twenty days, but it may have 
been more, before they sighted a tremendous range 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 1 05 

of mountains, which the Chinaman told him was 
the Burkhan Bota. And he explained to him the 
quaint meaning of this name. Burkhan is the Mongol 
for Buddha, and the Abbe Hue's interpretation of the 
name, which he gives in his travels, is the one com- 
monly accepted by the Chinese, and is simply 
4 ‘Buddha's kitchen." 

“ Whatin the world does it mean ?” said Julian. 

The Chinaman explained to him that this name, 
which sounded so funny, was really very ominous, 
as it originated in the mephitic gases which rise all 
over these mountains, and which make it a terrible 
task for anything living to cross them. However, 
it had to be done if Julian wanted to enter Hither 
Tibet. They reached at sundown one day the foot 
of the nearest of these mountains. The pass, as it was 
called by courtesy, lay across this. Julian looked up 
in the dim light and saw that some twenty miles of 
climbing lay before them on the morrow. He de- 
sired very much to sketch the outline of these most 
barren and ghoul-like mountains, which appeared to 
him to express in their shapes the very abstract idea 
of desolation. But he was too weary and worn out, 


106 * MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 

and resolved that he would make a sketch when they 
reached the plains on the other side. There is very 
little choice on such a journey as this as to whether 
one will work on arriving at the end of a day’s travel, 
or sleep, for sleep comes suddenly like a trance. 
Julian had only a blanket of felt for his bed, laid upon 
the ice-cold ground, but, nevertheless, he slept every 
night with a deepness which he had never before 
thought possible. 

A start was made the very next morning directly 
after dawn. Evidently his escort looked forward 
with much dismay to the next part of the journey. 
Julian was at first so fascinated by the barrenness 
of the scene that he forgot everything else in contem- 
plating it. The slopes which the yaks slowly and 
patiently climbed were of clay, out of which rose 
great rocks of porphyry. No vegetation was to 
be seen anywhere, except some small bushes of 
yellow kurile tea. There was very little snow, which 
is a peculiar feature of this range. A warm wind 
from the South plains passing over it continually 
drives the snow even from the heights. Julian thought 
when he saw these hills without the familiar snow- 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


107 


cap, that there would be very little hardship, com- 
paratively speaking, in crossing them, and the ascent 
too was exceedingly gradual. But in a very little 
while a strange feeling came over the whole party. 
The animals staggered and swayed as they walked, 
and Julian began to have a strange sensation of acute 
headache and intense languor. Soon a feeling as if 
he could not draw another breath came upon him. 
“It is impossible to go on,” he said, “unless we rest. 
I am too tired.” 

“ Oh, no,” said the Chinaman, “you are not tired. 
We are in Buddhas kitchen. We must suffer the dis- 
comfort of crossing over the vapours which rise from 
his cookery. Now you may be glad that Ki-Chan 
had sense enough not to send us upon camels, for they 
cannot breathe at all in this terrible air.” The exer- 
tion of movement became each moment more intol- 
erable, and Julian looked in surprise at the dogged 
obstinacy with which the others urged on their ani- 
mals, and slowly continued the ascent. Once or 
twice he begged them to pause, but these men, accus- 
tomed to the hardships of the country, knew very well 
that if they paused, they would never go on again. 


io8 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


No doubt, if he had been the only person whom they 
had to please, they would have turned back at once; 
but, as a matter of fact, they knew very well that 
they could not return — either the Lamas or the sol- 
diers — without having fulfilled their orders of taking 
him a certain distance into the interior of the country. 
The fatigue and giddiness which overpowered him 
became so great that when they neared the summit, 
he was unable even to appreciate the scene. In the 
whole string, five isolated peaks only were crowned 
with snow, all the others were barren alike of this 
mantle and of anything softening either of verdure or 
coloured earth. The scene resembled what one im- 
agines the dead side of the moon must look like. 
They had to camp in this exhausting atmosphere, 
being perfectly unable to continue marching, and 
Julian when he thought of his journey afterwards, 
concluded that the night he passed here was the most 
dreadful experience of all, for although he lay down 
on his accustomed bed the fatigue he suffered was of 
such an extraordinary character that sleep for the first 
and only time deserted him altogether. He had a 
sense as if he was not upon the earth, as if he was 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


I09 

being carried through the air, and a dreadful terror 
oppressed him — the kind of terror that we suffer in a 
nightmare when experiencing one of our dream 
journeys. It appeared to him as if the air he breathed 
must be full of carbolic acid or some other noxious 
gas. This could not be, as a matter of fact, in spite 
of the dreadful sensations he experienced, or else he 
must have been dead before the morning. The de- 
scent on the other side of the mountain was compar- 
atively easy on yaks, especially as every yard they 
traversed took them further out of Buddha's kitchen. 
The animals recovered some spirit, and riding them 
became less of a torment ; but, nevertheless, the 
journey which lay before them was enough to intim- 
idate the boldest soul. The vast desert stretched 
right away as far as the eye could see in every di- 
rection, a hideous desert of clay and sand, with an 
efflorescence of salt upon it here and there, as white 
as a snowdrift. No vegetation was to be seen, but a 
tuft occasionally of a grey lichen and a little grass, 
growing about half a foot high, and so parched by 
the constant wind that it fell to powder when touched. 
Yet the animals attempted to eat this dreadful stuff, 


I IO 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


and Julian pitied them ; but on such a pilgrimage as 
this the very capacity to pity dies out in time. One 
grows accustomed to see the creatures fail every now 
and then from sheer exhaustion and hunger. 

When they came to their second halt in this dreary 
scene, Julian had recovered a little from his extreme 
exhaustion, and he determined to seize the first oppor- 
tunity of making a sketch of the outlines of Buddha’s 
kitchen. He was too tired at night, but resolved to 
rise early and make a sketch in the morning before 
they started. This he did, and while the felt tent 
which they slept under was being taken down and 
packed up, and the animals got ready, he went a 
little way from the others and took out his sketch- 
book. It was the first time he had done anything of 
this sort since he had started, and it delighted him to 
feel his pencil in hand once again. He worked on 
very busily, anxious to complete his task before he 
was called to mount, as he knew he could not delay 
the start even a few moments. One can imagine his 
surprise, therefore, when on looking up he saw that 
he was surrounded by the Lamas, who had all left 
their animals standing in order to observe w r hat he 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


Ill 


was doing. A second glance at the silent group 
round him showed him that they were full of rage, and 
that they directed furious glances at him ; but it ap- 
peared they had no intention of interrupting his work. 
They allowed him to finish it in silence, and then 
Julian fastened up his sketch-book and put it back 
within his dress with a feeling of great satisfaction. 
To his amazement the moment he had done this he 
was seized by one of the Lamas and another took off 
the scarf or khata that he wore and bound Julian's 
arms so that he could not move. Having bound him 
up very safely the Lamas withdrew from him again 
and formed a circle around him. Julian looked about 
for his Chinese escort and saw that these were all 
mounted and ready to start. Presently the leader 
observing this group, which showed no signs of get- 
ting ready, goaded his yak and rode up to them. 
Before he could speak Julian addressed him. 

“What does this mean ?” he said. 

The Chinaman spoke to the Lamas in Tibetan 
and one of them answered him in a few sullen words. 
The Chinaman seemed greatly disconcerted and 
startled at the answer he received. 


1 1 2 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


He dismounted and entering the circle came up to 
Julian. “ Is it true/’ he said, “that you have been 
making a map of the country ? ” 

Julian looked at him in surprise. “A map,” he 
said, “ no ; I have been sketching the mountains.” 

The Chinaman shook his head. “ I don't know 
what you mean,” he answered. “ The Lamas have 
been telling me that you have been drawing, in a 
book which you carry inside your dress, a map of 
the country. If this is so I cannot save you. They 
have always wished you to be killed, believing you 
to be an English spy, drawing maps for the use of 
the English army. Ki-Chan knew that this was so. ; 
only because of his lofty position did they release 
you, but now they say that they have proof positive 
that what they suspected you of is true. Their dread 
of the English is something extraordinary. If this 
is so, these men will kill you, and I have no means 
of saving you.” 

“What am I to do ? ” said Julian. 

“Let me see,” said the Chinaman, “what this 
drawing is you have made.” 

“Take the chain that is round my neck,” said 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


“3 


Julian, “and you will pull out the book from my 
dress; it is attached to it.” 

The Chinaman did so, drew out the sketch-book, 
and opened it. When he saw Julian's sketch, he 
gave a little cry of dismay, and a low ominous mur- 
mur came from the Lamas. 

“Your fate is sealed,” said the Chinaman. “ They 
will kill you. How could you be so mad as to ex- 
pose yourself to this danger ? ” 

8 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA * 


114 


CHAPTER XII. 

The morning 1 after this curious experience of hers, 
Daphne was quite worn out with the excitement and 
the hours of thinking which she had devoted to the 
difficult position she was placed in. It was evident 
to her that some great power was at work in her life 
for which she could not account, and yet she could 
not render up her judgment altogether, because she 
was too sensible to be entirely credulous. Never- 
theless, the sign she had seen appeared to her so 
strange and so inexplicable that she felt she had no 
choice but to obey it. There was nothing to be done 
but watch and wait till she understood the meaning 
of the mysterious words. She was so little disposed 
to talk to Miss Riga or to any of the members of the 
fraternity, who might be in the house, that she did 
not leave her room until the middle of the day. The 
consequence was that a little before noon, Miss Riga 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


“5 


came to look for her, carrying in her hands some 
note-paper of different sizes. 

“I want your opinion, Daphne , ” she said; “you 
do not seem to take any interest in what is going 
on." 

“Indeed I do, auntie, ” replied Daphne, “but there 
is so much I I am tired of thinking ! ” 

“Don't stay to think, child,” said Miss Riga ; 
‘ ‘ there is so much to do , that there is no time to think ; 
we have real work before us now. Two nights ago I 
had an order to get this special stamp ready for use. 
I want you to tell me what you think of it, and which 
of these specimens you like best.” 

With this matter-of-fact remark Miss Riga handed 
to Daphne some sheets of paper of different sizes 
and styles, and on all of them there was at the head 
a double triangle with the points downwards, 
stamped in crimson ink. 

Daphne said nothing, but remained gazing at the 
paper as if petrified. 

After a moment Miss Riga noticed this and said, 
“Why, Daphne, are you ill? What is the matter?” 

“There is nothing the matter,” said Daphne, with 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


1 16 

an effort, “'only there is something very strange 
going on. I, too, have had an order given me about 
the Crimson Star ? " 

“No doubt, no doubt/' cried Miss Riga with an 
air of great triumph. “You have had an order to 
yield it obedience, I feel sure." 

“ How could you guess that ? " exclaimed Daphne, 
breathlessly. 

“Because I too have had the same order," said 
Miss Riga. “ Tis simple enough. I have yielded 
my obedience absolutely. Shall you yield yours?" 

As she said this she fixed a curious questioning 
gaze on Daphne, but directly the girl looked up the 
old lady pretended to be concerned with the stamp 
on the note-paper. 

“I have no choice," said Daphne, “but to yield 
obedience." 

She got up from her chair uneasily, and said with 
a sigh, “ How I wish Julian was here." 

“ Then you have not yielded obedience," said Miss 
Riga emphatically. “The disciple of the true reli- 
gion knows no regard, feels no desire, considers 
nothing but the Masters will." 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


1 17 

“How do you know this,” said Daphne, pausing 
in her walking* about the room and looking very 
earnestly at her aunt. 

“I know’ it,” said Miss Riga with a sudden change 
of manner ; “I know' it because I have been chosen, 
and I have had my orders explained to me.” 

She had dropped the quiet observant manner and 
put on one which W'as very impressive, a manner 
which she w r as wise enough to use only occasionally. 
It affected Daphne very much, for she had only heard 
her aunt speak in this tone once or tw r ice in her 
life. 

There was a moments pause, during w r hich these 
two w r ho had known each other so long exchanged 
a regard like that of strangers. “What does she 
mean ? ” was in the mind of each. Then Miss Riga 
rose abruptly from her chair, holding some of the 
stamped paper in her hand. “This star,” she said, 
“is the same in the Mystic Brotherhood as the 
sceptre of royalty is in the v r orld. It has been given 
me straight from the Master to use for mystic pur- 
poses, and from every impression of it a mysterious 
pow r er emanates. By it I command — by this I am 


1 1 8 MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 

made the Master here. — He chooses to give his orders 
through me, now that Julian has left us.” 

The old woman spoke with a curious dignity 
an air of dominance and strength — and she looked 
every inch a witch as she spoke. 

“Now, child,” she said, “I have told you the 
position ; you have received your order, and if you 
mean to obey it, you have to obey me.” 

Miss Riga then went out of the room, taking the 
paper with her, without saying another word. 

Daphne remained standing where she was like one 
stupefied. After a few moments, a servant came to 
the room to tell her that Mr. Gray wished to see 
her. She felt quite undecided whether to see him or 
not. 

“What is the use? ” she said to herself; “ I can- 
not talk to him about these things, and there is 
nothing else I care to talk about.” And then she 
suddenly realised that his cheerful presence would 
be a very pleasant relief to the mood she was in. 
She therefore said to the servant, who was waiting 
for her answer, “ Yes, I will come down and speak 
to him.” 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


1 19 

Mr. Gray had asked to see her alone, and had 
therefore been shown into a little morning-room on 
the ground floor of the house. Daphne looked for 
him first in the drawing-room, which had now be- 
come a species of chapel, used by night and by day. 
Miss Riga was there talking to Mrs. Flite, and evi- 
dently exchanging very confidential remarks, for 
they both stopped talking when Daphne looked in. 
Mr. Gray, not being there, she went downstairs, 
and found him waiting for her in the little room. 

“Miss Royal/’ said he, speaking at once, in an 
earnest manner very unusual with him, “ I believe I 
have taken a liberty in asking to see you alone, but 
I have been thinking all night over the extraordinary 
occurrences of yesterday evening, and I determined 
to speak to you and risk your displeasure. Do you 
realise the tremendous pace at which Miss Riga is 
setting to work ? Do you realise the position she is 
placing you in ? ” 

Daphne looked at him, and meeting the troubled 
gaze of his honest eyes decided to speak out. 

“ I think I realise it fully,” she said in alow voice, 
“but I too have had commands laid on me so 


120 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


strangely that I have no choice but to obey them.” 

Gray sat looking at her with the most perplexed 
expression on his face. “Are you all going mad? ” 
at last he said. 

“ I don't know,” said Daphne, “ I am torn between 
faith and incredulity.” And then she told him of her 
experience in the night. 

“This is very serious,” said Gray, “and I don’t 
see how you are to get out of it without a strong 
hand to help you. Have you any objection to my 
becoming a member of the Society, that is, of the 
inner circle ? ” 

“ I have none,” said Daphne, “ but I must own 
that I doubt whether you will be accepted.” 

“ That is true,” said Mr. Gray, stroking his beard. 
“ Miss Riga does not like me. Never mind, I will 
find a way to propitiate her ; I won’t waste a moment 
now that I know you have no objection.” He took 
up his hat as if to go and then hesitated. “ I want 
to ask you a business question, Miss Royal, if you 
won’t resent it.” 

“ What is it? ” she asked. 

“ Do you know who Julian’s heir is ? ” 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


121 


“I am,” said Daphne. “ He made a will just 
before he went away.” 

“Merciful powers!” said Mr. Gray, “what a 
position — well, good-bye for the moment, I must go 
and prepare my plans.” 

Daphne returned to her own room lost in thought 
and speculation, but very soon she was summoned 
downstairs again by the lunch gong. 

At the table she found Miss Riga and also Mrs. 
Flite who had already taken up residence. They 
both seemed as if full of some portentous news, 
something from which Daphne was excluded. Mrs. 
Flite was much given to chattering, but now she was 
quite solemn and silent. 

“ We shall have our rules very soon,” remarked 
Miss Riga in the midst of a dead pause, “ all our 
rules for working the Lamasery. Everything, even 
diet, is a matter of rule, and in every detail obedience 
must be given unquestioningly whether in a small 
matter or a large.” 

Mrs. Flite cast up her eyes and shook her head 
from side to side. “ Who could refuse it,” she said 
rapturously, “ when taken by the hand as we are, 


122 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 


and led on the path to perfection — honoured are we 
to be chosen out of the world — no self-denial could 
be too great, no sacrifice too heavy.” 

“ And yet,” said Miss Riga, “ there are many 
things which it is very hard to bear. It was very 
hard to have Julian leave us ; suppose Daphne should 
be chosen next to go out of the world into those 
awful solitudes, could we bear it?” 

“ Oh ! what a dreadful thought,” said Mrs. Flite, 
applying her lace handkerchief to her eyes. Daphne 
had been keeping her gaze riveted upon her plate 
waiting in great anxiety for what might come next. 
What did come next was enough to startle anybody. 
A crimson rose fluttered gently through the air and 
descended upon the plate right under her eyes. 

Daphne started and pushed back her chair as if 
prepared to get up and run away. 

“ Child ! ” cried Miss Riga in an excited awestruck 
voice, “ don’t move, the Master must be here. This 
is some special message from him.” 

Nothing further happened, and they all sat silent 
looking at this rose, which was a large and very 
beautiful one, of the deepest colour. 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


123 


“ Take it up,” said Miss Riga, “ perhaps there is 
something inside it.” 

“ I don’t want to touch it,” said Daphne. 

“ You ridiculous child ” said Miss Riga. “ Are 
you afraid ? ” 

This was said in such a tone that it stung Daphne. 
She put out her hand and took up the rose, and as she 
did so a small piece of paper fluttered out from the 
petals and fell on the white cloth. 

They all sat and looked at it as if it was something 
which would bite. Presently Daphne, realising the 
absurdity of the situtation, picked it up. It was a 
very tiny bit of thin paper, and on it was a crimson 
star evidently traced by hand. A few words were 
written upon it in a very peculiar handwriting. 

“ What is it, Daphne, may we know?” said Miss 
Riga after a few moments of silence and wonder. 

Daphne looked up and met her aunt’s curious ob- 
servant gaze. Miss Riga and Mrs. Flite were both 
leaning forward watching her. She handed the paper 
across to them. “Read it,” she said. “I don’t 
understand it — perhaps you do.” 

“ Dear child,” said Mrs. Flite, “ how is it likely 


124 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


I should understand it if you don’t, for to you is 
given the direct inspiration ; I am only a poor be- 
liever, though a true one.” 

Miss Riga slowly read out the words written on 
the paper : — If you can be perfectly unselfish and sac- 
rifice all your life for the great truth , to you will be 
given a great mission . 

“ It is signed 4 Morial,' ” said Miss Riga — “ signed 
by the name of our Master. This is his writing. 
Oh ! Daphne, what can it be that lies before 
you — how greatly are we honoured in this poor 
house ! ” 

Mrs. Flite lifted up her hands and eyes to heaven, 
and echoed the sentiment with “How greatly in- 
deed ! ” 

Daphne got up from the table, and, taking the 
paper and the rose in her hand, she left the room. 
The others followed her immediately, and Mrs. Flite, 
putting her hand on her arm as they went upstairs, 
drew her into the drawing-room. Daphne had not 
intended this — she wanted to go away alone to think, 
but Mrs. Flite would take no excuse. 

“ You must not shut yourself up, Daphne,” she 


MO AVAL THE MAHATMA . 


125 


said; with a purring manner. 44 All this will be too 
much for you to bear if you do.” 

“It is enough to take one’s reason away,” she 
added, gi ving a deep sigh of ecstacy. Daphne agreed 
with her, but did not say so. 

Miss Riga had just come into the room after going 
upstairs to collect some important papers which she 
carried in her hand, when a servant announced Mr. 
Water. 

44 Is this your friend, Mrs. Flite ?” asked Miss Riga. 

44 Yes,” said Mrs. Flite, 44 it is the Mr. Water I 
told you of — you will find him a precious friend. 
He is very earnest, and I am sure that he is inspired. 
He does but need the right guidance to be of the 
greatest value to the world. I know that he is unself- 
ish that he would give his life, his time, his money to 
the great cause, if once convinced.” 

4 4 His life will be accepted if he is worthy,” said 
Miss Riga very solemnly; 44 but money, — no one 
wants that. Have I not been accepted — have I not 
been honoured by special guidance and direct orders, 
and I am poor, obscure, penniless. A miserable 
old woman with nothing of her own, dependent on 


126 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


others, dependent upon the charity of those who love 
me. 

“ Oh ! Auntie/' said Daphne impulsively, “ do 
not speak like that," for she had never heard her talk 
in such a way before. 

“ Butit is true, my dear," said Mrs. Flite, “ very 
true, for I also, have nothing. I can give nothing 
but true service, yet I also have been accepted — is 
it not wonderful ? " 

By this time Mr. Water had entered the room. 
Daphne looked up at him with a faint curiosity. He 
w T as a very fair young man, with large, prominent 
eyes ; it is difficult to say anything more about his 
personal appearance. His manner was both eager 
and hesitating, and struck anybody who heard him 
speak for the first time as curiously vague. There now 
followed a conversation which bewildered Daphne 
very much. In spite of the absorbing interest of 
the message which she held in her hand, she could 
not help listening with a feeling of fascination. Miss 
Riga led the conversation, and talked like a priestess 
or the teacher of a great school. Something of the 
two combined she maintained in her manner. She 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


127 


talked openly and freely of the Master — Mahatma 
Morial— as of a person with whom she was positively 
acquainted. She talked of his intentions — of his vast 
scheme for the reformation of the religions of the 
world, and the social life of the world, which he was 
initiating. She spoke with awe and humility of their 
own modest house being chosen as the starting point, 
and themselves as the first disciples and the pioneers ! 

Daphne had never heard this speech before, al- 
though she had heard Miss Riga deliver some of the 
sentiments it contained. She became very familiar 
with it afterwards, for it was repeated to every new 
inquirer. 

When Miss Riga had done talking, Mr. Water 
asked very humbly what qualifications were neces- 
sary to enter the fraternity. 

“Oh, Mr. Water,” said Mrs. Flite, here interrupt- 
ing for the first time the conversation, “with your 
special gifts and your noble aspirations you have 
every qualification. Dear Miss Riga, I only ask you 
to look at some of the inspired verses which Mr. 
Water has produced.” 

Mr. Water, blushing with modesty or perhaps 


128 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


pleasure, produced a roll from his pocket — a ponder- 
ous roll of manuscript — which he handed to Miss 
Riga. 

She took it and turned the pages over, just glanc- 
ing at them. “ These are very wonderful,” she 
said, “ I can see that you have direct inspiration. I 
wonder whether our Master can inspire you — would 
you like to try ? ” Mr. Water blushed more deeply 
still, and stammered an unintelligible assent. 

Miss Riga rose with great dignity, walked down 
the room beckoning Mr. Water to follow her, and un- 
locked the doors which hid Julian’s portrait of his 
Master. Mr. Water trembled visibly as he stood 
before this splendid figure and gazed at it. As he 
stood like this, Mrs. Flite approached him, and stretch- 
ing out one hand, directed it towards him, and ut- 
tered the word “ Sleep.” He turned his eyes help- 
lessly towards her, and she, taking him by the arm, 
led him to a chair, into which he sank. 

“What a wonderful subject!” exclaimed Miss 
Riga in a whisper. “Oh wonderful!” said Mrs. 
Flite, in the same tone ; “you can have no idea what 
he is ! ” 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


129 


She took a paper and pencil and placed them in 
his hands. Very soon he began to write in a help- 
less, mechanical way, and after covering one or two 
pages, sank back in the chair as if exhausted. The 
two old ladies snatched up the pages as they fell, 
and read them with whispered ejaculations of awe 
and wonder. Presently Mrs. Flite awoke him with 
some of the “ reverse passes,” as the mesmerists call 
them. He looked round blankly and anxiously. 

“What has happened ?” he said. 

Miss Riga put her hand on his arm and said very 
solemnly, “I think you will be accepted. I shall 
call a special meeting to-night at eight o'clock — if 
you will be here then, I will give you your an- 
swer.” 

The young man felt that he had received his dismis- 
sal, and, dazed though he was, found his hat and took 
her departure. Daphne was about to rouse herself 
and ask some questions, when another visitor was 
announced, who must have met Mr. Water on the 
stairs. This was Mr. Gray. 

With a passing glance of intelligence at Daphne, 

he went direct to Miss Riga, and said briefly enough 

9 


130 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


that he wished to see her alone. Miss Riga took 
him away with her. She returned in about a quarter 
of an hour, looking very pleased and contented. 
During her absence, Mrs. Flite had been maintain- 
ing a species of cooing soliloquy, Daphne meantime 
sitting still lost in thought, and forgetting to answer 
her. Miss Riga came up and took her seat between 
them. 

“ Another serious candidate already — Mr. Gray 
has asked to join us.” This interested Daphne. 

“ Shall you accept him, Auntie ?” she asked. 

“I!” said Miss Riga; “it does not lie with me. 
I have to ask the Master for him as well as for Mr. 
Water. I have promised them both their answers 
to-night. I must go now to my own room and seek 
inspiration." 

All the rest of that day there was a deep solemnity 
over the house. When dinner came, the meal was 
conducted as if it was a funeral feast, and Daphne 
felt herself growing more sad and depressed with 
every passing moment. The atmosphere of solem- 
nity and mystification was almost more than she 
could bear. Immediately after dinner the members 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 131 

of the little lodge arrived ; there were only two already 
accepted and chosen besides Mrs. Flite, Daphne, and 
Miss Riga herself, so that the meeting was soon con- 
vened. Then came Mr. Gray and Mr. Water. Mr. 
Water trembled as he crossed the room in front of 
the portrait, although it was now concealed behind 
locked doors. The easel was dressed like an altar, 
with candles lit on each side, and on a little table in 
front of it a great bouquet of white flowers. This 
last, it appeared later in the evening, had been sent 
as a humble offering by Mr. Water. He trembled 
at the very sight of his own offering in so august a 
place. 

Miss Riga immediately went to business with all 
the dignity of the Grand Master of a Freemasons' 
Lodge. She made her preliminary speech, which 
was much the same as that of the evening before, 
and she then announced, in the most solemn man- 
ner, that Mr. Water and Mr. Gray were both ac- 
cepted. 

"We have now a good working body. With a 
strong band of outside workers under us, we are 
enough to influence the whole world. Great work 


i3 2 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


has been begun already — Mr. Water is evidently 
one of those pure, translucent mediums that can be 
used by the Master without difficulty. 

“The first few pages of a book which shall rev- 
olutionise thought and change the whole aspect of 
religious life, have already been written by his pen, 
under the influence of the Master s portrait. This 
book is to be a history of the world since the first 
thought of it dawned in the mind of the Infinite !” 

“Oh! how wonderful!” ejaculated Mrs. Flite ; 
“ how marvellously are we honoured ! ” 

“Honoured indeed!” said Miss Riga; “we are 
chosen, that is more ! We shall have to suffer — we 
shall have to sacrifice all — but, in recompense, we 
know that we are chosen. It will be one of the 
rules of the Lamasery that wherever we meet for busi- 
ness or discussion, some little study of the great laws 
of occult life, as our Master will give them to us, shall 
always be done, for we have much to learn. We 
cannot do better than study this book which is to be 
written through Mr. Water’s mediumship, as it is being 
produced,” To this there was a universal murmur of 
assent. 


MO AVAL THE MAHATMA, 


133 


“Let us begin at once, then,” she said and, taking 
up the papers, she handed them to Mrs. Flite, asking 
her to read aloud. This the lady did in a high-pitched, 
monotonous voice. 

“In the beginning of all things there was noth- 
ing. 

“There was less than nothing, for there was no 
mind to realise the nothingness. 

“In the beginning there was not chaos, for there 
was no consciousness with which to know there was 
no chaos. 

“In the beginning there was neither light nor dark 
nor heat nor cold nor shape nor form. 

“Nor yet was there any knowledge that these 
things were not. 

“In the beginning there was not the spirit of the 
world, which has created and built it up. 

“ Nor was there any intelligence to know that this 
spirit was not. 

“In the beginning there was neither sun nor moon 
nor stars. 

“Nor was there any fire, nor anything of which 
chaos could be made. 


134 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


“In the beginning there was neither movement 
nor stillness. 

“ Nor was there anything which could move or be 
silent.” 

Mrs. Flite paused from want of breath. The com- 
pany sat still, as though overcome by awe. In the 
midst of this religious silence, Mr. Gray's voice was 
heard. “ Dear me ! ” he said, “ where was Moses 
when the light went out?” 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


135 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Julian Arundel looked around and saw no suc- 
cour. He gave himself up for lost this time — there 
appeared to be no hope whatever. 

The Lamas were not only hostile but terribly en- 
raged. One glance at their faces showed him that 
intercession even of the most powerful sort would 
be useless with them, and now his Chinese friend 
acknowledged himself helpless. When Julian looked 
round he noticed the other Chinamen, standing to- 
gether and observing the scene with great interest, 
and then a doubt crossed his mind whether, as a 
matter of fact, these Chinese were not just as hostile 
to him as the Tibetans, and simply playing into their 
hands. 

This awful doubt cast out the last vestige of 
hope. 


136 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA . 


Mechanically, rather than with any object, he 
glanced round the horizon. Nothing but desert. 
Nothing but sand and clay except in one direction, 
where the high peaks of the Koiran mountains were 
visible against the sky. What use was it to look 
round on such a scene as this with any hope of help ? 
But as Julian looked, his attention was for a moment 
attracted by what appeared to be a black speck mov- 
ing rapidly tow T ards them across the desert. His 
sight was sufficiently practised now to tell him that 
this was a horseman. Only for a moment did he feel 
any interest in the circumstance, and then it was 
such an interest as a dying man feels in watching 
the movements of a fly. A horseman in this desert 
could be nothing to him— a native mountaineer, or, 
perhaps, one of the terrible Kolas. 

His eyes came back to study the faces of the crowd 
that watched him. His doom was written there. 
The word “ Death” was as clearly conveyed by 
their glances as if spoken. All that remained to him 
was to know of what character that death was to be. 
He expected torture, and he knew that an Euro- 
pean's imagination in such matters is weak. He 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


137 


tried to check this dreadful train of conjecture, and 
having resigned himself to the fact that his pilgrim- 
age was over, that he would never cross that des- 
ert, and never learn what he came to know, his mind 
reverted to thoughts of Daphne and of home. His 
head drooped on his breast and he stood there silent 
and motionless, hardly conscious of the ominous 
murmur of the voices of the men around him. 

They were arranging or discussing some detail 
evidently, and he thought it was lucky that he could 
not understand their discussion. He determined to 
die like a stoic, and think as little about it as pos- 
sible. Ah, but Daphne would never know, — would 
never know, — that hurt him most of all. She would 
never know how far he had fought, and how much 
he had suffered. His head drooped lower, and the 
scene he was in faded right away from his sight. 
He was back in his studio with Daphne. 

Suddenly he was startled, and roused out of this 
sad reverie by a tremendous thundering sound. It 
was the noise made by a great horse approaching at 
full speed. He did not trouble to raise his head 
even, so completely was he occupied in facing his 


I3 8 morial the mahatma. 

fate, — another enemy made but little difference to 
him now ! 

The furious rider dashed straight up to the group 
and into its centre, the men all backing right and left 
away from the hoofs of the great horse. It was an 
immense creature — black, and fire seemed to come 
from its nostrils. Julian's artistic eye noticed the 
size and beauty of the horse in spite of his trouble, 
for it was brought to a standstill right in front of 
him. What a size it was ! It seemed to fill the sky. 

The others all shrank back terrified, but Julian 
stood still. In an instant something inexplicable 
happened. Before he had time to realise that the 
horse had a rider, he was snatched up as a child 
might be, by a hand that gripped like iron, and found 
that he was himself upon this horse. He knew not 
who else rode it, or who guided it, for it was carry- 
ing him across the desert at the same terrific speed 
at which it had come. He was blinded, breathless, 
helpless, only able to cling to the long thick mane, 
and keep his seat. There was some one sitting be- 
hind him, that he well knew, but it was impossible 
to look round. His sight was blurred and bewil- 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


139 


dered by the tremendous rapidity of the pace at which 
they went. It seemed to him that no animal ever 
bred to the desert could keep up such a pace as this. 
Surely it was not natural ! 

They fled across the great expanse straight in the 
direction of those mountain peaks, which he had 
so long looked at with weary desire, and which now 
seemed to come visibly nearer with every moment 
of this extraordinary flight. 

Was this thing a horse on which he rode? he 
asked himself, or was it some great bird ; — or was he 
dreaming? At last, strong though he was, nature 
gave way, and he swooned on the neck of the great 
horse as a woman might have done ; but he did not 
fall. He was held in his place by a strong hand. 
A great blank of unconsciousness followed. He 
fancied afterwards that he came to life once or twice 
during this dream-like flight, falling back again into 
a stupor. He remembered vague glimpses of some 
strange experience, such a one as comes to us in 
delirium. 

When he woke to any clear knowledge of life he 
was lying down in great comfort on soft pillows, 


140 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


but he was not indoors. His wakening faculties 
soon told him that. He looked up into a low can- 
opy of embroidered cloth and fine woven curtains 
were drawn round him. He was being carried, and 
after a little while he recognised the movement, and 
knew that he was in a litter. He was resting — he 
was refreshed — he could feel that he had been taken 
care of, and that some cordial had been given to him 
to restore his strength. He was profoundly comfor- 
table, and these curtains so prettily embroidered with 
an arabesque of flowers shut him in from all the 
world. He conjectured from the slant of the litter 
that he was being carried up a very steep incline. 

A fever of curiosity rose in his mind. “Where 
can I be? — what can have happened to me?” he 
kept saying to himself, and then he longed to draw 
the curtains apart and look through. And then he 
dreaded to do so, and the dread was so much greater 
than the longing that he lay still — he knew not how 
long — it seemed to him for hours — without mak- 
ing any efforts to satisfy his curiosity. But at last 
the longing conquered, and very cautiously he raised 
one hand and drew back one of the curtains a 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 14 1 

very little. All that he saw at first was that he had 
left the desert, and that he was being taken up a 
very difficult pass. “What mountains are we cross- 
ing ?” he asked himself in the greatest perplexity 
of mind, “surely I am not being taken back again. 
No — this vegetation is new, I see some tiny shrubs ! ” 
When he saw these little plants his heart gave a 
leap of delight, for he knew that he was not being 
carried back across the dreadful Buddhas Kitchen, 
where nothing but parched grass grows anywhere. 

“ No-— this was something different. Was it pos- 
sible that he was being carried across the Koiran 
Mountains ? If so, he was indeed helped on his way 
beyond his wildest hopes ! But who was doing this ? 
Into whose hands had he fallen ? ” 

When he came to this conjecture he tried to look 
through the curtains more fully, though very cau- 
tiously, to see who his bearers were. A glimpse of 
them showed him that their aspect would not en- 
lighten him in anyway. Evidently they were simply 
native mountaineers, peasant Tibetans of the shep- 
herd order, who are accustomed to climb the passes 
just as the goats and the yaks are. 


142 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


He sank back on his pillows more exhausted with 
thought and perplexity than with the fatigues of his 
strange journey. He determined that his best course 
was to keep still until some event should take place. 
Very soon something did happen. A halt was called, 
and as soon as the litter had been put down, some 
one came and drew apart the curtains. Julian lifted 
himself upon his elbow, and looked with intense 
eagerness at the figure which stood there. 

It was tall and commanding, the figure of a war- 
rior, but the face was hidden — hidden by a mask. 
Julian felt more terror at the sight of this mask than 
he had experienced during any of his previous ad- 
ventures, for he knew not what it meant. Who was 
it that was thus silently regarding him? After a mo- 
ment of this silent inspection, the figure turned to 
some one standing by, and putting out one hand took 
a glass, which he then offered to Julian. 

Julian lay still, half hesitating ; he remained gazing 
at the figure, and then at the glass and the hand — 
such a beautiful hand he had never seen before ! It 
had not the special beauty of a woman’s hand because 
it was so full of strength, but it was more exquisitely 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


143 


shaped than any woman's he had ever seen ; and in 
this hand was held a glass, of a kind which he had 
never seen before or ever heard of. Its shape was as 
exquisite as that of the hand which held it, and it was 
so thin that the golden liquid within it seemed like a 
sunbeam unconfined. 

Julian understood after a moment that he was to 
drink this — this sunbeam. He still hesitated — was 
this the refined and subtle manner in which the Tib- 
etans had chosen to kill him ? While he reflected on 
this, a strange thing happened — in the very body of 
the liquid flamed out a crimson star. Julian took the 
glass instantly, and drained it. It was taken from 
him again with something which seemed almost like 
a caress, and the subtle magnetism which came from 
that touch affected him more than any words could 
have done. A chain appeared to have fallen upon 
his spirit. It was formed of a delightful series of 
sensations — it might have been a chain of roses, but 
yet he knew that it was a chain. He tried to analyse 
this feeling, and tried to keep the curtain open, but 
his mind sank under the instant influence of the wine 
— of the touch — he knew not which, and the curtains 


144 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


were drawn together from outside close and firmly. 
In what seemed less than a second to him Julian was 
again unconscious. This time his sleep, or swoon, or 
trance — he never knew what it was — may have lasted 
a few hours or it may have lasted a few days for all 
that he could ever tell. When he tried to recall what 
had happened he remembered that it was daybreak 
when he made that fatal sketch of Buddha's Kitchen. 
When next he was able to take any intelligent survey 
of the scene in which he found himself it was the 
evening. It did not occur to him just then to wonder 
whether it was the evening of the same day, but after- 
wardshe often speculated as to how many suns he had 
lost sight of in crossing the Koiran Mountains. For he 
had crossed them. He knew enough of their outlines 
— he had studied them sufficiently, to recognise them, 
and when again he looked round he saw a horizon 
bounded by them. They hemmed in the landscape 
on every side. So amazed was he when he realised 
this that he started instantly to his feet and looked 
again. Not until he had done this and fully convinced 
himself that he was not dreaming, but that what he 
saw were the real mountain-peaks did he look down 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


145 


upon the scene close at hand. He drew a deep breath 
of amazement. Never even in his wildest fancies had 
he pictured anything so beautiful as that which he 
now saw ! 

How he had been brought here — how he came to 
be here alone now — were things he could not even 
stop to puzzle over. He only knew that he was 
standing on the green grass of a velvet lawn and that 
he must have been lying on it when his consciousness 
returned so suddenly. The sun was just setting and 
a marvellous rose colour flooded all the sky, while a 
golden haze, almost like gold dust, lay across the 
valley in which he stood. 

For the first few moments of delight he absolutely 
forgot himself — his mission — everything. Julian 
Arundel — Daphne — and the Master, were all alike 
swept out of his mind by the intense pleasure that he 
experienced. A great throb of delight passed through 
his whole being as he looked round from side to side 
on this wonderful scene. We know something of 
what it was like, for Julian stood upon the lawn that 
lay outside Mortals home. He looked at the beautiful 

surroundings which Morial had gathered about him, 
10 


146 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


but he experienced much more than that. He actually 
breathed the same air as Morial, for Morial’s power 
was so great that he altered the atmosphere in which 
he lived. 

His first breath of air drawn in the fastness sacred 
to Morial gave to Julian the first moment of real 
pleasure that he had ever known in all his life. His 
only conscious thought was, “ Have I ever lived be- 
fore this? Am I only just born; and was all that 
dreary time a mere nothing ? Oh ! what a marvel- 
lous thing is life if this be it.” 

And yet Julian had the advantage of being a strong 
man who could enjoy all the ordinary pleasures of 
life, and of having the high-strung artistic tempera- 
ment to give him keen enjoyment as well. He had 
always supposed that he was one of those specially 
gifted to enjoy, but this awakening in Morial’s garden 
showed him that he had been, as it were, asleep 
hitherto. He found, moreover, every sense intensi- 
fied. He could not tell whether it was in the intrinsic 
beauty of the scene or in his keener faculty that the 
delight lay which he found in looking round him. 
“If I were to die now,” he thought to himself, “I 


MO RIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


14 7 


would willingly take all the suffering I have been 
through for the sake of these few moments ! ” 

A wakening curiosity led him to turn round and 
look behind him. A great rock formed the back- 
ground, rising straight up into the sky. Against its 
darkness stood out the beautiful flowering trees which 
sheltered Moriabs home. 

Only a little way across the velvet grass Julian 
could see an open door framed with a perfect wreath 
of tropical flowering creepers. The sight of this 
struck him with amazement. He could see through 
the doorway that it admitted immediately into a large 
room. This room was lit by a very soft silvery light, 
and moreover, the rays from the setting sun fell across 
the threshold. He could see that it was furnished in 
the greatest luxury and with every sign of what we 
usually call civilisation. A table near the window 
was covered with books and papers. Further back 
in the room he could dimly see another table laid as 
for a meal, spread with a white cloth lace-edged, 
glittering with glass and silver and brilliant with 
flowers. Great divans heaped with silken cushions 


148 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


went round the walls, and above them the walls 
were lined with books. 

Julian stood transfixed with amazement as he 
studied these details. What a hermitage was this to 
chance upon in a savage country ! Surely, it must 
be a dream — a mirage. Presently he saw something 
move across the room, coming from far back in it, 
and approaching the door. Nothing human this — 
and, as he recognised instantly, something terribly 
savage ! With a stealthy movement it came out and 
stood on the threshold, and then Julian saw that it 
was a panther. 

While the creature stood there he waited once 
again for his fate. To move was useless. 

He knew that if it sprang on him he could not 
escape. 

It did spring, and there flashed across him that 
moment of excitement amounting almost to uncon- 
sciousness in which a man gives himself up for lost 
and yet determines to fight hard for his life. 

But simultaneously with the panther’s bound came 
the sound of a voice. 

“ Edone !” cried this voice. That was all — but 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


149 


the tone of command was enough. The creature 
crouched and drew back, and Julian stood breath- 
less, but at ease again, knowing he was saved. 
Something else crossed the room in the same direc- 
tion as that in which the panther had come. It was 
a human figure this time. A young man dressed 
simply in the ordinary blue robe with which Julian was 
now familiarised, came to the window and stepped 
out on to the grass. He raised his hand as he passed 
the panther and it shrank away from him. He ap- 
proached Julian, coming quite close to him, and 
with a smile addressed him immediately in English. 

“ I am afraid Edone startled you,” he said, '‘but 
you need never fear him again now.” 

Julian was very much more startled by this appa- 
rition than he was by that of the panther. 

He saw before him a young man of his own age, 
of the most wonderful beauty, and with the most 
charming manner. 

That was all he realised in the first moment, and 
he tried to speak and answer this friendly address 
in his own language which was the very last he ex- 
pected to hear spoken, but found his powers of 


T 5° 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


speech failed him. He was overcome by a sensa- 
tion perfectly new to him — a sense of attraction, so 
strong that it seemed to pull his very heart-strings, 
drew him towards this wonderful being — a feeling of 
devotion inexplicable because it sprang so instantly 
into life — seized upon him. No woman had ever 
affected him like this. His love for Daphne was 
child's play beside this feeling. He wanted to fall 
on his knees, or do something which to an English- 
man appears absurd, but he controlled himself, and 
after a slight pause which appeared nothing more 
than that of natural astonishment, he succeeded in 
speaking. 

“I am more startled by hearing you use my own 
language." 

“That is very likely, but you must get used to be- 
ing surprised here. No doubt you will be aston- 
ished, having come from a very matter-of-fact coun- 
try where I believe you are dependent upon the post 
and telegraph, to know that I quite expected you, 
that you are here as my guest, and that I shall be 
very glad if you will come in to supper." 

With this speech the young man turned and led 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


151 

the way through the open door into the lighted 
room. 

Julian looked to the skies and the earth to see if 
there were any more miracles about, and then quickly 
followed his mysterious host. He did not know 
until he entered the room and sat down to the per- 
fectly appointed table that he was quite tired and 
quite hungry. But so he was, and the rest and re- 
freshment of the beautiful surroundings were most 
delightful and cheering. He was very surprised (or 
rather that is hardly correct, for his power of being 
surprised was worn out ; I should rather say he was 
very much relieved) to find the supper a delicate 
meal, such as an epicure of any nation would appre- 
ciate. This was a great change from the raw meat, 
the barley cakes, and the dreadful buttered tea, to 
which he had been so long accustomed. 

And his host, who talked lightly and easily to him, 
just as if they had been two college friends meeting 
in his rooms, sat opposite, and poured him out from 
time to time wine in a glass like that from which he 
had drunk on the journey. 

The first time the glass was handed to him he was 


152 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


so wrapt in admiration of the beautiful face opposite 
that he did not notice it. The second time his eyes 
fell on it he recognised its peculiar shape, and he 
recognised also the hand that held it. 

This, then, was his masked guide across the moun- 
tain ! And the wine, was it wine ? or was it fire and 
light? It seemed to flash into Julian's brain and 
give him new intelligence and new powers. He 
could not bring himself to ask any question which 
might break the charm of this ideal supper. He 
prized the moments which passed by in the delight- 
ful intercourse with this stranger, who entertained 
him so royally, who laughed with him like a boy, 
and talked of all things in heaven and earth. Well, 
if not of all, of strangely many ! 

It struck Julian suddenly with amazement that this 
man, whom he found in the inaccessible fastness of 
Tibet, was talking to him of the politics of Europe, 
and showed an infinitely greater knowledge of the 
events of the day than he himself possessed. 

This thought having once entered his mind, he 
could not banish it again — a kind of intellectual ter- 
ror seized him and chased away the freshness of his 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


T 5 3 


pleasure. A wild craving to solve the mystery of 
the place he was in, and the person he talked to took 
possession of him. Like everything else he had ex- 
perienced since he had been in this strange place, 
his emotion was keener than anything he had ever 
felt before. It overpowered him — it was uncontrol- 
lable. 

He started suddenly from his chair, and stood a 
moment looking at the beautiful youth who sat oppo- 
site him with a smile of amusement on his face. 

“ Who are you ? ” said Julian, “ I cannot rest till I 
know. Who are you that talks like this of the affairs 
of all the world, though you dwell in a hermitage ? 
Who are you that talks of men's minds and hearts, 
as though you read them? ” 

4 ‘What?" was the answer, uttered with the most 
delicate inflection of amused scorn, “what? — the 
disciple with the clairvoyant vision — the disciple that 
can read that which is not ’written ! Can you not 
answer your own question ?” 

Julian leaned across the table and stared at the 
brilliant young face which fascinated him as he had 
never been fascinated before. 


154 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA . 


“ What ? ” he said, in his turn, “ is it you ? ” 

“My name is Morial,” said the other, and laughed 
his exquisite musical laugh, as he watched Julian's 
face. 

“ Have you not painted my portrait ! ” he went on, J 
“do you not recognise your model ?" 

“ I recognise my own incapacity," answered Julian ; 
“I recognise the blindness of my sight and the 
feebleness of my hand ! I know you now, but, God ! 

I never dreamt that a man could have such beauty ! 
and when I saw you from the other side of the world 
I suppose I was half blindfolded." 

“That is not altogether the explanation," said 
Morial, lightly, getting up from his chair, “partly it 
is, but I am in my youngest humour to-night. You 
would not have known me at all had you seen me 
when I came on my good horse, Agape, to save you 
from those murderers ; I looked very different then. 
Is not Agape a good horse? Did not he carry you 
well across the leagues of the desert ? Agape is one 
of my oldest friends and the next is Edone. Im- 
prisoned souls both. My best prayer for you is that 
you may never earn their fate ! " 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


J 55 


Julian did not attempt to understand him. 

Morial was moving about the room, and Julian 
stood watching his movements, fascinated absolutely 
by their beauty, and absorbed in his own amaze- 
ment. “I fancied our meeting so different!" he 
said. “ I have often tried to picture it. I thought I 
should fall on my knees and ask you to teach me." 

“ Well," said Morial, with a laugh, “ you wanted 
to. Don’t doubt yourself; you did recognise me, 
but I wished for an hour of amusement. I do not 
often entertain a nineteenth-century Englishman in 
my hermitage. To speak correctly, I have never 
entertained one before. I liked talking to you for a 
little while, and let me tell you that I never lose a pleas- 
ure unless a duty compels me to. Life is too precious 
to waste the value of one moment of it. Now," he 
went on, altering his manner to that easy one of the 
host, which he had worn at supper, “you had better 
rest. You have had no natural sleep for some 
time." 

“Ah!" said Julian, “I thought I had been in a 
strange state." 

“Oh! I could never have got you here if you 


156 mortal the mahatma. 

had been awake,” said Morial smiling, “ you are 
such an excitable creature, and an Englishman is so 
obstinate. Besides you would have died under the 
fatigue. Now, I want you to sleep, but only for 
two or three hours. You have come here to work 
and to learn, and you must begin your apprentice- 
ship. I shall rouse you at midnight, when you will 
have slept off the effects of the long journey and all 
this excitement. I must preserve your physique, it 
is a fine one, and youth is more valuable than gold 
or learning in the path you have chosen. Come.” 

He liftqd a curtain and went through an archway 
and Julian followed him, much too bewildered to be 
anything but submissive. The corridor they entered 
was full of the same silvery light as the room they 
had been in. The impression produced on Julian's 
mind was that they were in a great house. He had 
just sense enough to be surprised at this, because on 
the outside the house had appeared very small. He 
knew afterwards that most of it actually lay within 
the rock, and he found out, but this not until long 
afterwards, that the room he rested in was within 
the rock and just below the hall in which the great 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA 


157 


crystal hung. His bed was actually beneath the 
crystal, but to-night there was nothing to make him 
guess this. The walls were covered with embroi- 
dered cloths, the floor was hidden by skins. The 
dim light which came from no visible lamp, was 
pale and soft. The bed struck him with instant ad- 
miration. It was of ivory, and shaped like a boat, 
and it swung very lightly as he laid down in it with 
a delightful soothing motion. The couch was so 
soft that to his tired frame, so long accustomed to 
lie on the hard ground, it seemed like a bed of rose 
leaves, and it smelled like one too. 

But a stronger scent overpowered this fragrance, 
the scent of a burning pastille, which faintly filled 
the room. It was a different scent from that of the 
pastilles of the Lamasery — more subtle and more in- 
toxicating. It appeared to him to affect his brain as 
the wine had done. 

Morial said no “ good-night. ” He led him into 
the room, and, with a wave of his hand which 
brought upon Julian a deep sense of sleep, turned, 
and left him. 

What rest that was which came to Julian ! — as de- 


158 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


lightful — as full of keen enjoyment as his sensations 
when he first woke to life outside Mortal's home. 

His last thought as he sank off was : “ What a 
marvellous thing life must be when one has really 
learnt to live, if I can find such pleasure as this so 
soon 1 ” 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


*59 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Julian was awakened by a light touch on his hand 
— a touch as light as the fall of a roseleaf, and yet it 
went so straight to his brain that he was wide awake 
in an instant. When he fell asleep the light in his 
room had been silvery and bright, although very 
dim. Now, when he opened his eyes, it was much 
stronger, but it had a kind of coppery tinge, like one 
sometimes sees in a sunset, but more often in the light 
of a fire. That was what first attracted his attention, 
but in the next instant his whole mind was occupied 
by the figure which stood beside him. He knew 
immediately that it was Morial, although without a 
certain amount of intuition he would probably not 
have recognised him. The face had changed so com- 
pletely that it seemed as if one or the other, must be 
a mask. The same features were there, but the bril- 
liant creature of supper-time had given place to a 


i6o 


MO RIAL THE MAH A TMA . 


stern and cold ascetic, more than stern and cold, 
hard and repellant. A shiver passed through Julians 
frame as he looked at this face, which seemed to be 
made of iron. The cold blue eyes looked down on 
him with a fixed, steady gaze, which he felt compelled 
to answer ; he could not look away. 

“It is time to rise,” said Morial. “Come with 
me. 

Without hesitation Julian obeyed. How could he 
do otherwise with that unwavering gaze fixed upon 
him. Wait, you who think it is possible to repel any 
such gaze as this, till you have been swayed by a 
powerful hypnotist, or taken half out of the track of 
reason by some half maniacal soul, that desires to 
influence you ! 

The singular gaze which Morial fixed upon Julian, 
brought into his mind immediately that dreadful 
thought of insanity. He had only seen such a look 
as that once before, and that was in the eyes of an 
inmate of a solitary cell at Bedlam. But there was 
no resisting it. • 

He rose quickly out of the ivory couch in which he 
lay. Even this had changed its appearance perhaps 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA . 1 6 1 

merely from the change of light, but it no longer 
looked so white or so beautiful as when he entered 
the room. Morial was dressed in a scarlet robe, 
which fell in straight lines from neck to feet. He 
carried on his arm another garment of the same 
kind which he gave to Julian. 

“ Put this on,” he said. “Come with me.” 

Julian, who, though he had studied the mysteries 
and beauties of colour, had never studied its mean- 
ings, dressed himself in the robe of the Duppa, and 
gowned as a novitiate of the Black Order, he followed 
his Master in curiosity and awe. 

The keen feeling of pleasure which the first meet- 
ing with Morial had given him was gone. He did 
not feel now that this man was a friend, as he had 
felt a few hours ago. Then it seemed to him as if 
he had met the dearest one of all in the world, the one 
who would give him the most pleasure, and whom 
he could trust absolutely, as he could trust no none 
else. All this was gone, the cold glitter of those 
steel blue eyes had dissipated the delightful fantasy. 
But Julian did not distrust his Master, he only feared 

him ; he had learned enough of occupation to appre- 
ii 


i 62 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


hend that the master is regardless of his pupils wel- 
fare for his own sake, the master's one thought being 
the good of the world. What he felt, therefore, as he 
followed Morial along the corridor was that now he 
had indeed met with his master, one who would 
judge him without favour, and compel him to show 
all the strength and value of his character. 

They went up a long flight of stone stairs, and in 
a few moments passing the crouching figure of the 
panther, they went together into what we have called 
Mortal's laboratory. Julian had no conception of 
where he was, for the room was perfectly dark, and 
from the moment he passed the threshold of the door, 
there was no evidence to any of his senses that any 
other living was there. He only felt that he was in 
darkness and silence. Perhaps this state of things 
only lasted a moment, or it may have lasted hours, 
it was impossible for him to tell. He had just begun 
to feel that he must shriek aloud, not from fear, but 
from a horror which this blank darkness brought 
upon him, when his attention was arrested by the 
sudden appearance of a faint grey cloudiness just in 
front of where he stood. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 163 

Immediately a great contentment took the place of 
the horror. If his clairvoyance was to be developed 
by this ordeal, then he was well pleased to bear it. 
The greyness grew larger; then formed itself into 
shapes. Very dim shapes these were at first, but 
presently he fancied he could see the pillars and arch- 
ways of a great hall. By degrees the outlines be- 
came more definite, and he felt that he was in this 
Hall, though only just within the door, still really 
within it, and the door was closed behind him. 

There was a great altar at the far end, a strange 
altar, not decked with flowers nor lit with candles, 
and yet offerings were placed there. Shadowy figures 
slowly moved towards it through the dimness of the 
hall, and put upon it vessels which they carried. 
This went on slowly but continuously, and Julian 
strained his sight to the utmost to try and understand 
what it meant. Presently he saw that all these fig- 
ures w r ere blindfolded; more than that, they were 
swathed, bound, wrapped, like Egyptian mummies, 
with scarcely any freedom, even of the limbs, save 
just enough to move w T ith difficulty, and just enough 
to carry the vessels which they all bore. They could 


1 64 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


not see nor hear, nor speak, and it came to him as a 
most strange thing, that so completely were they 
swathed and bound, that, not any one of them 
could guess who their companions were, net even 
those who stood on each side of them. What a 
mysterious isolation it seemed of the members of the 
silent crowd ! And what were these vessels that they 
all carried ? Each one as he with difficulty reached 
the altar, lifted his arms and placed the vessel which 
he held, upon the very altar itself, and then, after a 
moment's pause, turned and moved away in a strange, 
wandering, helpless way, like something lost and 
without aim. 

Some of those who had been to the altar came very 
near Julian, and he looked at them with an intense 
curiosity. It was useless to speak to them, useless 
to touch them ; they were more effectually separated 
from him and from each other than if they had been 
creatures of a different planet. Some power which 
was not his own seemed to awaken in Julian. Did 
it come from Morial? was he still standing by him? 
He did not know, he could not guess, but presently 
he found that, not his own volition and with most 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 165 

unexpected ease, he had himself reached the altar. 
He stood where he could look into these vessels ; 
and what was within them ? Only a few ashes — -just 
a few ashes at the bottom of each. As soon as he 
had seen this, a dreadful oppression, a sense of deep 
despair came over him, and it seemed as if the place 
that he was in was no longer supportable. Immedi- 
ately, he appeared to be carried rather than led, to 
the doorway. The door was opened and a breath 
of more natural air revived him. Morial stood beside 
him, still looking at him with that cold, glittering 
gaze. Julian feared him now, but his curiosity was 
too great for him to remain silent. 

“ What have I seen/' he said ; ‘ 4 what were those 
ashes ? ” 

“You have seen/' said Morial, “the ceremony of 
sacrifice. Those ashes are the ashes of the heart. 
Each human creature that enters the Great Life, must 
first burn out his heart and offer it willingly. That 
is what now lies before you. It is useless for me to 
ask you whether you are ready, but I shall soon know. 
Follow me.” 

Julian followed his Master, as he called him now 


1 66 


MOR/AL THE MAHATMA. 


in his own mind, as obediently and as mutely as a 
dog would have done, but at the same time he was 
plunged in profound and terrible thought. What did 
this thing mean ? He had hoped that the hardship 
had quickened, not killed his heart, and he resolved 
to wait and try and discover the true meaning of this 
mystery before he entered upon it. 

Morial took him through a darkened arch-way in 
the great room where the crystal hung. There were 
many other things in the room to attract attention, 
and Julian did not at first notice the great mirror of 
the soul. Indeed, he did not realise at all that it was 
there, or what it was that he looked at, when at last 
he saw it. All he knew was that he was looking 
straight into his old studio back in London. How 
home-like and how pleasant it looked ! It was per- 
fectly real to him, and the revulsion of feeling, after 
the terrible gloom and despair with which the masked 
figures he had seen had inspired him, was so keen as 
to make him entirely forget his present surroundings. 
A figure moved across the studio, and so completely 
was he carried away by the illusion that he started 
forward and cried out “ Daphne, ” and the figure 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 167 

paused and turned, and Daphne's face was lifted to- 
wards him ! Surely she had heard him. 

If so, the sound of his voice brought her no pleas- 
ure. A look of anxiety, even of despair, came upon 
her face. She was dressed in white, and as Julian 
noticed this, and how dark the room was otherwise, 
it suddenly struck him that this was the night, and 
that Daphne was wandering about the house really as 
if she was a ghost. 

Why was she so restless, so anxious, so nervous ? 
And he saw that she looked from side to side as if in 
terror at some possible apparition. He uttered her 
name again, almost unconsciously, and with the idea 
of reassuring her. She started violently, and then 
suddenly turned and fled, and the crystal relapsed 
into darkness, for it seemed that it was the lamp in 
Daphne's hand which had illumined it. How changed 
she was ! how altered ! Julian stood lost in amaze- 
ment and distress. Then suddenly he again felt that 
light touch which awoke him from his sleep, and, 
turning, saw Morial standing by his side. 

“ It is nothing to you," said Morial, “ if that beauti- 
ful girl became mad with trouble or dies of trouble 


1 68 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA. 


and grief. What should it be to you ? There are 
many beautiful girls in the world, but in the fierce 
fight of the great life they are nothing. They amount 
for no more than the midges that buzz round you on 
a summer’s day ; if the life of one of these is snuffed 
out, what matters it?” 

“What makes you talk like this?” said Julian; 
“surely you do not wish me to be heartless? If 
Daphne is suffering I must return to her.” 

“Do so, then, quickly, my friend,” said Morial, 
“and do not waste my time. That which you have 
first to offer on the great altar is the vessel contain- 
ing the ashes of your heart. I have shown you 
this once very plainly. Make no mistake : the 
neophyte sacrifices all that the ordinary man is bound 
by ; the ordinary limitations of preference or liking 
can easily be conquered ; but let me tell you that he 
who loves is utterly useless in the life which you wish 
to enter. We are compassionate, but we cannot 
allow ourselves to feel , the stakes at issue are so great 
as to enter into the realm of abstractions, and we 
should fall from our high duties if we allowed the 
thought of any one person or of any number of indi- 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 169 

viduals to affect us. Until you have learned this 
lesson it is useless to think of going on.” 

Having so spoken the Master turned away as if to 
attend to something more important than a neophyte's 
educational welfare. And he left upon Julian's soul 
the same awful sense of dreariness and desolation 
which had been given to it by the vision of the Cere- 
mony of Sacrifice. To his imagination it had always 
appeared that the life of the neophyte would be more 
intense and much fuller than the life of the ordinary 
man, and that the life of the Master would be a glory 
of warmth and of love. The keen pleasure which 
Morial had imparted to him when first he arrived 
seemed to warrant this hope and make it a justifiable 
faith, and now this crumbled to ashes. 

He remained standing without desire to move, and 
thinking deeply over Modal's dreadful words. The 
light about him was very dim and grey as his own 
thoughts, but suddenly he was startled by a brilliant 
flash straight before his eyes. It was in the crystal, 
and in a moment the whole of the great mirror was 
one glow of light. He did not realise this. All that 
he realised was that the light in front of him was his 


170 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


studio again, but lit now as if for a great entertain- 
ment. All the wax candles in the silver sconces, 

* ' 

which he himself had placed upon the walls, were 
burning, and soon he saw that the room was full of 
people. They did not come in, he did not see them 
enter, but they slowly became visible to his sight, 
and the walls were lined with chairs, and all the 
chairs were filled. And then he saw, too, that the 
room was altered. For a long time he could not 
understand it. He saw the great archway which had 
been opened between the houses. He saw that there 
were people in the further room ; he saw his portrait 
of Morial standing upon an easel in its accustomed 
place, but in a new frame and hidden behind locked 
doors. 

Just when he took in the whole scene, Miss Riga 
entered the room, and walking up to the easel un- 
locked the doors and showed the splendid portrait of 
Morial in his crimson dress. Julian drew his breath 
as he looked at it. Yes, that was Morial as he painted 
him as he first saw him in the mystic vision, and 
that was Morial as he was to-night — cold, heartless, 
cruel, inexorable. But immediately his attention was 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 171 

distracted from the picture by the sound of a voice 
which penetrated to his ears. It was Miss Riga’s 
voice ; he recognised it, although it appeared to come 
from a great distance and sounded as if carried to 
him through a kind of tube ! Still, he could hear every 
word of it plainly ; and he listened in the utmost 
amazement to a speech which she delivered stand- 
ing there in front of the portrait. 

“ Surely this is some fantastic dream,” he thought 
to himself. “This is never Aunt Riga standing there 
addressing these people ? ” 

But it was true ! and its truth was made clear to 
him as he watched this scene. 


172 


MO AVAL THE MAHA TMA. 





CHAPTER XV. 

He stood spellbound, listening to these words uttered 
on the other side of the world. To him everything 
that was said was perfectly novel, and he could not 
understand it. Miss Riga delivered the speech with 
which Daphne was now familiarised ; just a little 
learned and a little elaborated for her larger audience. 
Perhaps it would be hard to enlarge the idea of found- 
ing a religion which is to oust Christianity from the 
face of the world, but it is not so hard as it seems, 
with such a creed as Buddhism to fall back upon, 
and this was Miss Riga's position. She was a very 
clever woman, and she knew exactly how to use her 
opportunities. 

Julian listening to her, separated by the surface and 
centre of the globe from her actual personality, yet 
stood amazed, and indeed appalled by her power. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


1 73 


If all she said were true, it was she that was the 
Master; if all she said were true, she knew more of 
Morial than he did, and yet he was close to the 
Master, able to speak to him if he wished. What 
could this mean ? All these people who sat surround- 
ing his familiar room were spellbound, listening to 
her words. Who were they ? What were they ? What 
had they to do with himself or his mission ? It seemed 
to him that he ought to interfere, to speak to Miss Riga, 
and to tell her that he did not understand her author- 
ity for such words as she uttered, for they were the 
words of a high priestess ; in fact, in what she said 
she absolutely claimed to be this ; and how was this ? 
For when he left London, surely but a short time 
ago, Miss Riga had looked upon his mission as the 
enterprise of a madman, as the vagary of a half 
crazed painter ! 

She talked and talked, and at last when it seemed 
she had said enough (as perhaps she stopped only 
for lack of breath, he could not tell which, but at all 
events she stopped), she crossed the room and sat 
down in her accustomed chair. The people in the 
room remained silent for a moment, but soon a dark, 


174 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA . 


tall young man rose, and advancing to the place 
Miss Riga had occupied in front of the portrait, ad- 
dressed the others. He talked of the Great Life, of 
the Higher Life, and the Great Cause, of something 
which transcended all ordinary life, and which swal- 
lowed it up absolutely, in what he called a super- 
human motive. Julian listened to him in amaze- 
ment. Who was this man who stood and talked like 
the master of the house in his studio ? 

He could not understand it, and this possessive- 
ness, so characteristic of an Englishman, almost 
crowded out of his mind for a moment the conscious- 
ness that the greatest stakes were at issue. He felt 
an intense irritation at the idea of a man whom he 
had never seen and did not know speaking like one 
in authority in his own house. But his thoughts 
about this were soon interrupted by something more 
vital to the man himself which stirred his whole 
being to its depth, and this was the sound of a familiar 
voice. It was the voice of his old friend, Arthur 
Gray, and how strange was that sound, perhaps more 
strange than even the voice of Daphne herself would 
have sounded, had he heard it away here in these 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


175 


mysterious surroundings and in the heart of this 
extraordinary country into which he had penetrated. 

“I should like to ask,” said Mr. Gray, “if it is not 
being too practical, what definite position we are to 
take up in this Christian country? Perhaps Mr. 
Foster will kindly answer me, as he seems perfectly 
aware of what we are intended to do.” 

The tall dark young man, who Julian presumed 
to be Mr. Foster, looked at Arthur Gray who had 
risen from his chair and stood facing him, just as a 
panther might look at a lion, or to speak more in 
nineteenth-century fashion, as a cat might look at a 
dog. He surrendered the position after a moment’s 
thought by appealing to Miss Riga, and taking refuge 
under her standard. 

“Madam,” he said, addressing her, “this surely 
is beyond my powers and scope. Will you please 
answer this inquiry if I retire ? ” 

Miss Riga rose to the occasion and looked regal as 
she did so, little though she was in person. She had 
the peculiar quality which makes the Queen of Eng- 
land great among monarchs. Our Victoria is a very 
little lady, but she looks taller than anybody else on 


1 76 MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 

occasions. And so it was with Miss Riga now when 
called upon. She grew taller as she rose from her 
chair. She seemed to expand and enlarge in her 
majesty and dignity. 

“ The position that we have to assume/’ said Miss 
Riga, facing her audience with perfect confidence, 
“in a country which owns Jesus Christ as its Saviour 
and teacher is simply this : — we are the apostles and 
disciples of the parent creed. Buddhism is as much 
the father of Christianity as the parent is the father 
of the child. Christianity is a mere offshoot of that 
religion upon which we found our daily lives, in 
which we find our aspirations and our hopes. What 
we have to do, in fact, is to found a great centre 
in London, where the poor creatures who have 
hitherto followed a mere off-shoot religion shall be- 
come the children of the great parent stock. In this 
centre everything can be learned ; here actual truth 
can be studied. More than that, here we get the 
words of a master of to-day, now living on the earth, 
the benefit of his teachings and his guidance. ” 

Julian’s amazement at these words can possibly be 
better imagined than described. When he had left 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


1 77 


London Miss Riga had not developed any of these 
tendencies. He had not then heard that she even rec- 
ognised the Master as a personality with which she 
was familiar. How did she come to know anything 
of this Master, with whom he himself was practically 
a stranger in spite of his terrible journey. 

There was a buzzing of general conversation in the 
room into which he was looking, and during the dis- 
traction he felt a touch upon his hand — the magic 
touch again. It startled him intensely ; it brought 
him back from the commonplaces and simplicities of 
London life, to the awful reality that he was— what- 
ever might be going on in London — in the deserts of 
Tibet alone with this inexplicable creature, the 
Mahatma Morial. 

Turning, he saw Moria/s beautiful brows bent upon 
him, full of interest. 

‘‘Well/' he said, “ what do you think of this ?” 

Julian answered his gaze very earnestly. “I 
think/’ he said, “it is both sad and terrible, unless 
you will explain to me something that I cannot even 
guess at. Tell me has that old woman orders from 
you to say these things ? ” 


12 


1 78 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


“ Indeed, no,” said Morial, “I have never com- 
municated with that creature. She has nothing to 
do with me except as a tool that I do not care to 
even handle/' 

“Then how can she speak as she does?” said 
Julian, still looking at him fixedly. 

“ Because,” said Morial, “ she is a tool and a use- 
ful one.” 

4 ‘ But, ” said J ulian, “ if you had not communicated 
with her she is telling lies.” 

4 ‘ Certainly, ” answered Morial, 4 ‘ she is telling lies, 
I am aware of that.” 

“And you permit it in your name,” said Julian. 

“I not only permit it,” said Morial, “but I approve 
it ; it saves me a world of trouble.” 

“Why does Daphne look so sad?” said Julian still 
looking at him but not conquering the intense gaze 
which he met. 

“Daphne looks sad,” replied Morial, “because 
she has met at last with the realities of life. She is 
much better off than if you had married her and made 
her happy. She will become a candidate for the 
higher life in time, and she may attain eminence 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


179 


before you do, because she has some very high qual- 
ities. Her clairvoyance is extraordinarily pure/' 

‘‘That may be/' said Julian, “but I love her, and 
I want to know why she looks so unhappy." 

“I take no interest," replied Morial, “in the hap- 
piness or unhappiness of the persons who have be- 
come my instruments. If you wish to enter the life 
for which you have become a candidate, you must 
conquer these foolish notions. Happiness and un- 
happiness are convertible terms. Learn this as the 
first truth, and then offer up that heart of yours, 
which is at present leaping like a wild beast, at the 
great ceremony. When it is done you may per- 
haps learn the truth." 

He was alone again, Morial had left him, but the 
sense of solitude only lasted a second, for again he 
saw this crowded room before him, and the eager 
faces. “You can tell us the truth," said one. “You 
can guide us and tell us what to do," said another, 
“and you can order our lives, and tell us what is 
right to say, and even to think," said the third ; 
“why, then, we are your slaves, this is what we have 
looked for, what we have waited for ! " 


i8o 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


Julian looking at the scene before him, saw Miss 
Riga, whom he had known as an unfortunate and 
helpless old woman, surrounded like the high priest- 
ess of a temple, by a crowd of earnest neophytes. 
Very earnest were they. They were ready to surren- 
der their lives or money — everything, if only they 
could know the truth. Watching, Julian went through 
a terrible experience, for he found that looking at them 
through this crystal medium he could see their very 
thoughts, and that they were in earnest in what they 
said. What was it to which they rendered their hom- 
age ? Was it a true altar or a mock one ? How could 
he tell after Mortal's last words? He had doubted 
Miss Riga very naturally, but he had been prepared 
to trust his Master. Now everything seemed swept 
away from him — heaven and earth alike. The crys- 
tal clouded and grew dark, and Julian’s soul clouded 
and grew dark with it. None who have not suffered 
as he has suffered, can know the solitude and despair 
of that darkness and doubt. 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


181 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Very soon after the actual sunrise, indeed as soon as 
the sun had reached the valley, Morial threw off the 
peculiar garment which he wore during the night, 
and, dressed in his blue robe, went out into the air. 
His was one of those marvellous faces of which in 
every-day life we sometimes see faint reflections, in 
which youth appears to grow stronger day by day 
instead of age. Nature was to him like a playmate, 
and the smile of pleasure always came upon his face 
when he threw aside his cares and looked up into the 
brilliant sky. He needed no companionship in order 
to find pleasure as less perfect mortals do. In the 
deep recesses of his mind memory had stored so much 
and thought had created so much that no other being 
had power to supply him with amusement. Certainly 
he had found amusement in the few hours spent with 


182 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


Julian on his first arrival, but that was not found in 
Julian himself. He simply used this young English- 
man fresh from the centre of civilisation, to reawaken 
by his talk and manner memories of his own life long 
ago ; for in the far past he had saturated himself with 
the intellectual and social life of every country. 
There had been a time when he had been very much 
what Julian was now, only more intellectually cul- 
tured and with an overpowering knowledge of his 
own future and destiny. 

That future and that destiny had been so gigantic 
and so full of romance that ordinary life was lost 
sight of beside it. 

Long since had he renounced all the pleasures and 
passions of every-day humanity, putting them aside 
for something which utterly blotted them out from 
his consciousness. But at times it gave him a pass- 
ing gleam of amusement to touch on old chords, 
and fancy himself a boy again in the old-fashioned 
sense. He had immortal youth — not the transient 
youth which has to be snatched and enjoyed before 
it flies ; but at what a cost had he not obtained it ! 
what lives had he not sacrificed, what hearts had he 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 183 

not broken, what minds had he not clouded by de- 
spair and insanity ! 

Going on his way triumphant, a monstrous intel- 
lectual hero, the whole decalogue of crimes, and 
even more (for some defied description in words) 
had been committed by this exquisitely beautiful 
creature who stood here now in the sunshine, greet- 
ing it with as innocent and beautiful a smile as any 
saint might have worn. His difficulty (a faint mo- 
mentary difficulty which had commenced when the 
disciple whom he sent to bring Julian across the 
pass of Phari failed) was now conquered. Julian 
was in his grasp, and through this man’s magnetic 
touch with the home and country he had left, Morial 
held a telephone agency of the sort he needed. 
Julian was, in his eyes, a tool, though not just as 
he had called Miss Riga a tool — this was a very 
valuable one, because highly strung, and in connec- 
tion with the centre which he desired to touch. 
And why did he desire to touch this ? Not from a 
caprice or a fancy, but because that thing we call 
fate, and which is stronger even in the will of a 
Mahatma, ordered that at this time knowledge of 


1 84 MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 

many strange things should come to the Western 
world. An hour of unfoldment had arrived, and 
Morial, who well knew that a stronger power than 
himself existed, knew that he, too, was a tool just as 
were his creatures ; but he had learned the supreme 
art of wresting from fate fruition and reward for him- 
self. He intended to hold the reins of this Western 
development, and not to permit the opposing power 
which continually met him through all his hitherto 
triumphant life, to take from him this great oppor- 
tunity. Power was to him the one good, the one 
desirable thing, and he worked for that, to increase 
it and maintain it, as some work for a great cause 
and others for a selfish one. 

For perhaps two hours of the fresh, dewy morn- 
ing, Morial wandered about in his garden, perfectly 
happy in the pleasure of the movement, and taking 
the perfect rest which he had learned to obtain at 
will. But at last he was disturbed. A faint sound 
reached his ear, like the tinkling of a very sweet, 
silvery bell. He started, and paused, and then in a 
moment the mystic change came over him, which 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 185 

transformed him from a beautiful youth to the mys- 
terious being we call a magician. 

In all this world there were but two other minds 
with which Morial the Mahatma ever held what we 
call conversation, only two other minds ever ap- 
proached the level of his own, and these were the 
minds of men who had lived his own life, and who 
now had secluded themselves, as he had done, from 
the disturbances of the outer world in order to 
preserve the altitude which they had reached. These 
three, almost brothers, had not met in the ordinary 
sense for more than a thousand years, but from time 
to time they communicated with each other, by 
methods peculiar to themselves. 

The signal which had reached Morial’s ear came 
from one of these friends. 

It was the note struck by Kuthumi, the nearest 
and closest to him of the two. It was unusual to 
receive a signal of this kind at such an hour. Late 
in the afternoon a time was appointed for their con- 
versations and therefore Morial was surprised at re- 
ceiving the signal now. He answered it instantly. 

A moment later the sound of a voice as sweet as 


1 86 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


the bell penetrated to his ear. It appeared to come 
from a great distance, and was faint but perfectly 
clear. 

“May I give you a warning, ” said this voice; 
“ will you listen to me now if I do?” 

“I know, Kuthumi, what it is you have to say,” 
replied Morial, “ for although I am daring I am not 
blind. There is danger, there is terrible danger, in 
what I am at work upon now.” 

“Be warned by me,” said Kuthumi, “rest upon 
that which you have, and desire not to take that 
which the Opposing Spirit covets.” 

“ I have always conquered,” said Morial, “and I 
shall conquer to the end. My spirit is indomitable.” 

“That is true, but the Overruling Power wins 
when it is least expected,” was the reply. “ Do you 
know, have you observed, where your danger lies 
now ? ” 

“ My friend,” said Morial, “ I listen to you, speak 
and tell me what you have to say.” 

“It is with that young creature whose soul is as 
white as she is pure herself that your danger lies. 
She is so immaculate that she cannot be soiled in 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 187 

spite of every evil thing you throw about her. If 
she were not there in the very midst of your tools, 
you would win without difficulty, but as it is, her 
very innocence and simplicity combined with her 
courage threaten you with an overwhelming danger/' 
“Now I do not understand you," said Morial, 
“explain yourself more fully." 

“Can you not see," said this quiet voice, “that 
the Opposing Spirit itself can control an individual 
so unspotted by the world as this? Right in the 
very heart of your machinery you have one place 
which is not your own and which never can be." 

“ I understand you now," said Morial. “Well, a 
frail thing like that shall not stand in my way, nor 
prevent the great development I see before me. I 
will crush her ! " 


MO AVAL THE MAHATMA . 


1 88 


CHAPTER XVII. 

In the curious community now dwelling in the big 
house at Hampstead, Miss Riga had only one 
absolute confidante. It is much better for a person 
in such a position as hers to have no confidante at 
all ; but this is difficult, indeed practically impossible. 
The greater the autocrat, the more necessary is the 
one trusted servant. Miss Riga had found it beyond 
her powers to do everything herself, and as soon as 
the great ideas of the new religion and the lamasery 
had entered her mind in their practical aspects, she 
looked about her for an ally who would play into her 
hands when necessary. Just at that time Mrs. Flite, 
an old, but hitherto not much valued acquaintance, 
met her by accident. Mrs. Flite had been a very 
pretty woman once upon a time, in a certain sickly, 
faded, gushing style, and being entirely without 
intellect, had found all the pleasures of life in society 
and admiration. But with the loss of her youthful 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 189 

beauty, which not even her yellow wig- could pre- 
serve, she found these pleasures harder to get. She 
was a widow, with an income which was a mere 
pittance for a woman of her tastes ; and for many a 
long day had she been looking about her for some 
easy and agreeable means of adding to the comforts 
of her life. 

In Miss Riga's new religion Mrs. Flite beheld a 
happy hunting-ground for herself. It was long since 
she had been able to get into a set of rich people ; 
and at the first glance she saw that if she embraced 
this creed, it would admit her to the society she 
wanted. Then she must look out for opportunities — 
some rich old lady, perhaps, a fanatic in the latest 
fashion, might want a companion to humour her 
follies. She looked with a keen interest at the 
members of the fraternity, with an eye to business. 
But before she had hit on any scheme of her own, an 
accident brought her good fortune. Being absolutely 
incredulous and sceptical in all matters supernatural, 
she was, as a matter of course, on the look out as to 
how these strange things happened in the house. An 
incautious word dropped by Miss Riga put her on 


190 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA . 


the right scent ; in an innocent mind like Daphne’s 
it would not have roused suspicion — but to Mrs. Flite 
it brought not only suspicion but conviction. She 
laughed from genuine enjoyment ; a glance of intel- 
ligence and appreciation passed between the two 
women ; and from that moment Mrs. Flite found 
herself established as the factotum of the high- 
priestess. The post was better than she had expected ; 
and she was well content. She had to learn a few 
conjuring tricks ; she had occasionally to visit a 
certain Sanscrit scholar whom Miss Riga had dis- 
covered, by inquiring at the British Museum, and get 
sentences translated ; and she had to talk a great 
deal on subjects about which she understood nothing. 
But all this was very easy to her. In return she had 
a comfortable home, and sums of money from time 
to time. And when the rules of the lamasery were 
given to its members, and they found themselves 
deprived of all amusements and fed upon gruel and 
water, she and Miss Riga had many a little supper 
together, and sometimes some mysterious little out- 
ings. It is such an advantage to have one really 
confidential friend ! 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


l 9 l 

The great amazement of Mrs. Flite was, that peo- 
ple could be so easily duped as they were. She 
told herself twenty times a day, that if she had had 
any idea there were so many fools in the world, she 
would have made her fortune long ago. 

Having made the great discovery that the cred- 
ulous form a large class, she determined now to make 
the utmost out of it. 

She acknowledged in Miss Riga a greater person 
than herself — a true general. If Daphne could 
have heard them talking together, it would have 
been a revelation which would [have shaken her 
reason. Neither of these two had seen anything 
genuine at all, and looked upon Daphne and Julian 
as only a different kind of lunatics from the others 
whom they deceived so easily. But they very care- 
fully concealed their views from Daphne, whom they 
instinctively felt could not be trusted — as they would 
have expressed it. It would be hard to say what 
they thought of Daphne's own visions, which so 
mysteriously confirmed all that happened. Probably 
if they thought about it at all, which is doubtful, as 
neither of them were intellectual questioners, they 


192 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


imagined all these things to be self-delusions, for in 
this little centre of work, the mysterious duality of 
the true and the false was to be seen distinctly, the 
two running side by side; and this duality is more 
mysterious and terrible even than that of good and 
evil. To the ordinary mind the tricks played by 
these old ladies would be enough to destroy all faith 
in the supernatural and the unseen. And yet the 
supernatural and the unseen were at work all the 
time. The unintelligible power which Morial ex- 
ercised, not only created the genuine phenomena, 
but utilised the false ones. Once granted such a 
power as his, it is quite as easy to allow natural 
incidents to play the game as to create special ones. 
Mercifully for Daphne, her own visions were becom- 
ing so real and vivid, that she was losing the sense 
of trickery, with which the letters had at first filled 
her. She was one of those idealists to whom the 
mere transcending of the laws of nature amounted to 
little, while great issues to which most people pay 
but slight attention occupied the first place in her 
mind. She wanted to know whether the cause was 
a true one, whether it would be good, whether it 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


193 

would really benefit humanity. Once convinced of 
that, and her life was readily offered up to it. She 
was not yet convinced of that great fact, in spite of 
the visions which came to her, and showed her that 
the supernatural was reality. There is a great 
difference in the way in which people receive the 
facts of supernaturalism ; to many they are of no 
interest, whether true or false. To some, when once 
they are seen to be real, a profound faith comes, a 
kind of divinity hides in the medium’s table which tilts 
and tips and spells by the alphabet ; and Daphne 
belonged to the third class, a small one. She was 
readily convinced of the supernatural, being highly 
impressionable and naturally clairvoyant ; but she 
was as anxious to distinguish between right and 
wrong in that domain, as in any other, and it was 
impossible for her to be blind to the strange and 
supreme selfishness which ordered this little lamasery. 
Here, where unselfishness was talked of from morn- 
ing to night, the very opposite was practised by those 
in authority. 

She thought little about the money matters which 

seemed to impress Mr. Gray so much. She did not 
l 3 


194 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


realise the difficulties which these might lead to, nor 
the dishonourable conduct which is possible in con- 
nection with money. 

To her it had never appeared of very great impor- 
tance, but she did realise that the eager disciples 
were taught nothing, or allowed to talk a great deal 
of innocence, or to impose upon themselves as well 
as to be imposed upon, and she failed to see, in spite 
of the excellent ground-work which Miss Riga, by a 
little clever reading up had built up out of the old re- 
ligions, what benefit was to be done to the world by 
the new system. For among them there was no one, 
as yet, to seize the essence of the beautiful thoughts 
which were imparted wholesale into their conversa- 
tion, and convert them into reality. There was a 
general idea that something which was called the 
higher life was being led in this little establishment. 
As a matter of fact, a kind of despotic rule was being 
exercised by Miss Riga, which gave great benefits to 
herself, and caused greater deprivations to others. 
Of course there was a greal deal of talk about the lit- 
erature that was to be given to the world. Daphne 
gathered by degrees that Mr. Gray had obtained his 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


*95 


ready admission by depositing a fairly large sum of 
money to be used for the benefit of the cause. This, 
it was understood, was to be used for the publication 
of books to disseminate the wonderful doctrines of 
the new sect. So far, there was nothing more being 
done in the way of literary production than Mr. 
Waters inspired volume, of which we have had a 
specimen. He continued from time to time to pro- 
duce these remarkable stanzas, and he was duly 
worshipped for his extraordinary gifts. Daphne 
studied them carefully, and tried very hard to make 
out whether they had any meaning ; but Mr. Grays 
critical remarks too often showed up absence of ideas 
in them for her to be able even to put any in herself. 
So far she saw the whole thing to be a bubble, never- 
theless, she was kept in very strict order, in a special 
state of preparation for the great work, that which 
had been foreshadowed by the message given her in 
the crimson rose. 

At last one day Miss Riga told her, point blank, 
that she intended to send her with Mrs. Flite to 
America to form a centre there, and, as she expressed 
it, to ‘‘spread the truth and extend the work.’' 


I96 MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 

Daphne was so startled at the idea that she received 
the information in silence. It seemed to her so 
utterly ridiculous that she should be set up to teach 
that which she did not know, and of which she had 
learned, as yet, practically nothing, that she thought 
it to be merely a passing fantasy of her Aunt, and that 
it would not be mentioned again. But in this she was 
quite mistaken. She soon found that actual prep- 
arations were being made for the journey. Mrs. 
Flite had all this in hand, and told Daphne, quite as 
a matter of course, what she was doing. Mr. Gray 
was sitting in the room at the time when Daphne 
made this discovery, and it gave him a great deal of 
food for thought. “ What can the old ladys object 
be in this," he conjectured. And seeking Daphne 
out he begged her to tell him everything Miss Riga 
should say. “ There must be some reason in her 
own mind, Miss Royal," he said, “or she would 
not select you for such an impossible task. Why 
does she not send two of the men ? Foster would 
go directly and do all the talking. You will never 
talk to drawing-rooms full of people as the old lady 
does." 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


197 


“ Impossible/' said Daphne, in the greatest distress 
of mind. “I cannot, and I will not. No doubt I 
should be willing to do it if I understood the subject, 
but as yet I know nothing. I cannot go ; I must in- 
sist on having my own way in this. And so saying, 
this rebellious spirit went to interview the high 
priestess. 


198 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Nothing came of Daphne’s interview with Miss Riga, 
who remained inexorably fixed in her resolution to 
send the girl to America. And neither Daphne nor 
Mr. Gray could discover her motive. One circum- 
stance gave Mr. Gray much food for speculation, and 
that was that Daphne was not to sail until just after 
she came of age. This struck him as curious. It 
would seem as if then Daphne should surely assert 
her authority over her own life, and refuse to go on 
this unpalatable journey. But Gray saw that before 
that time came either she would be dangerously ill 
or her spirit would be broken. 

Miss Riga and her confederate subjected the girl to 
that sort of slow daily torment which wears out the 
proudest spirit. She saw no one from the outer 
world, but dwelled always in this curious mental 
hot-bed, where excitements and emotions of an un- 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


I 99 


natural kind were constantly being worked up. The 
rules of the lamasery being now in working order, 
long hours of solitude were enforced, and diet of the 
very lowest was made a law. Daphne was of the 
ideal temperament which takes little notice of circum- 
stances such as these — but her physique was very 
delicate and the strain began to tell on her. It only 
augmented her beauty ; she grew more fragile and 
ethereal with every passing hour. 

Gray, reflecting over these things, concluded that 
the object of the rules of the lamasery was to weaken 
the will and break the spirit of the unlucky disciples. 
He himself conformed to them very thoroughly to all 
appearance, while in reality taking excellent care of 
himself. He considered this quite in the light of an 
altruistic duty, for if he did not keep his wits about 
him who was to take care of Daphne in her lover's 
absence? 

And as the days went by, and no word came 
from Julian, and Daphne visibly faded away 
before his eyes, Gray determined to take heart of 
grace, and forbid his conscience to call him a traitor 
to his friend if he asked Daphne to marry himself. 


200 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


What else could he do? Loving her so dearly and 
devotedly as he did, was he to see her die, because 
of her lover’s neglect, and the heartless selfishness of 
her guardian ? No, a thousand times no, exclaimed 
Gray after arguing the question with himself through 
a whole night. It was impossible for him to decide 
what her feeling for him was ; he knew that when 
Julian left she cared for him and for him only ; but 
of late she had seemed to turn to Gray for counsel, and 
lean on him. Gray told himself that if Julian had 
written to her, or if she had not been in such a ter- 
rible position and so much in need of someone to 
help her, he would have kept silence ; but now 
surely he might speak. 

And so at last he brought himself to do 
so. He had sat watching her through the solemn 
comedy called lunch, and had come to the con- 
clusion that if something was not done soon it 
would be too late. He stayed indoors that after- 
noon, contrary to his usual custom, and waited pa- 
tiently for an opportunity of being alone with her. 
And then, afraid of losing a moment of this rare 
chance, and afraid, too, of losing his courage (for at 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA, 


201 


heart his conscience was not perfectly satisfied), he 
began to speak instantly. 

“ Miss Royal,” he said in a very low, earnest voice 
— they were in the window of the drawing-room, and 
though alone in the great room, he never felt quite sure 
that the very walls had not ears in this house — “ you 
know Julian was my dearest friend, and you know, too, 
I hope and trust, that I feel a sense of honour towards 
him in his absence. God forbid that I should wrong 
him in any way ! I have loved you since I first met 
you, but I should never speak one word if I were not 
so uneasy and anxious about you. Why has Julian 
left you alone, without a word, among these crazy 
people ? Don’t be angry with me, if I dare, now that 
you are in such a terrible position, to ask you if you 
will give me a right to help you. It will be needed 
very soon ! — I implore you don’t misunderstand me 
or think I am making a treacherous use of the 
friendship you have honoured me with ! — But, indeed, 
indeed you cannot fight through the difficulties before 
you unaided.” 

Daphne shook her head mournfully. 

“I will try not to misunderstand you,” she said, 


202 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


“ though I think, as Julian's friend, you should not have 
said this. But let us forget it — there are such dreadful 
things to think of. Oh, Mr. Gray, it doesn't matter 
about me — but I am breaking my heart about Julian. 
Where is he — what has become of him ? I can't 
think about anything else. And when I ask Aunt 
Riga this she says I am showing disobedience to the 
Master. Oh, Mr. Gray, I do wish Julian would come 
home." 

And this was all the result of poor Gray's casuistry 
and the stifling of his conscience. Daphne burst 
suddenly into tears, and sobbed in such a heart- 
broken way about Julian, that Gray was silenced, 
and never dared to mention his name again. Very evi- 
dently Daphne's heart was away in Hither Tibet, and 
Gray was sensible enough to know that it is of no 
use to ask for what is not to be had. So he made up 
his mind, like a man, to face the situation. If he 
could not have the best, and take Daphne away from 
this wretchedness, and keep her safe from it all, then 
he must be content with the second best — accept her 
friendship, and do what he could to help her. He 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. ' 


203 


knew he could not complain, for she had been 
engaged to Julian when first he knew her. 

And so this was the end of it. He stood by her, 
trying to comfort her, listening to the passionate out- 
burst that gave her so much relief after her long reti- 
cence, and trying to conquer the dreary sense of 
disappointment which made him feel as if he wanted 
to go away, and leave her even in her pain. But he 
conquered it, and stayed with her, till someone else 
entered the room and they were interrupted. 

Then he w r ent away and tried to think. 

Daphne had told him, all in one rush of confidence, 
how her heart was breaking for Julian — how but a 
night or two since she had twice heard his voice 
calling her name, distinctly, and had conceived the 
idea from this that he was dead — how the vision of 
Morial had several times visited her, and always 
commanded obedience — how she received letters and 
messages which also always commanded obedience 
— how she doubted and dreaded and feared, and 
yet could not resist the potency of these mysteri- 
ous visions of her own. 

“Then you believe in these visions ? ” said Gray, 


204 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


very sadly and solemnly. “They are real to you.” 

“Oh, yes, they are real,” exclaimed Daphne with 
a shudder. 

“ If this thing is true,” said Gray reflectively, “ if 
there is a supernatural life — if there are Masters in 
knowledge, surely a pure soul like yours can find the 
truth. Why not demand it and ask for it ? ” 

The suggestion quieted Daphne — she seized upon 
it, in all its force and beauty, instantly. 

“ I will do it,” she cried with fervour, “ oh, thank 
you, Mr. Gray, for the thought ; surely I can insist 
upon knowing the truth. If there are Masters they 
will answer my appeal ! And if there are not, and 
I am sincere, surely God will hear me ! ” 

All this, Gray found, required a good deal of 
thinking over afterwards. He went to town and 
dined at his club. 

It was a pseudo-artistic, pseudo-aristocratic club, 
and at the next table to Gray, also eating a solitary 
dinner, was a young peer of the realm, who came 
here because he found a little Bohemianism and a 
great many new ideas. He was one of those un- 
fortunate persons to be found in life more frequently 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


205 


than they should be, to whom their natural surround- 
ings bring no final satisfaction. Being enormously 
rich he cared nothing for money, and only respected 
brains. Being born a peer he had thought himself 
into a tentative sort of socialism. As he was isolated 
from all the common hardships of humanity he was 
led (probably by some emotional law of re-action 
which we do not understand) into suffering these 
sorrows vicariously, and wishing there was some way 
to relieve them. 

Such, briefly, was the character of the handsome 
youth, a nobleman in thought and deed and in ap- 
pearance, who was so nearly caught last season 
by the new modern religion — Theosophy. 

It first touched him that evening at the club, when 
he sat next Arthur Gray at dinner. 

Notices of the mysterious doings at the Hampstead 
Lamasery had begun to creep into the papers ; 
courteous interviewers had been to call on Miss Riga, 
and had been politely received. For Miss Riga saw 
very plainly that the name of the credulous is 
Legion, and that to the catching of them there is 
no end. 


206 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


Morial the Mahatma, in his mystic retreat, saw 
very plainly, too, this early work could as well be 
done by an impostor like Miss Riga as by himself. 
When he chose, he could, with one touch of reality, 
take the inquirer to himself, if it were worth while, 
as a devoted disciple, as he had done with Julian. 
The preliminaries of finding those who wished to 
enter the path could as easily be done by a common 
tool like Miss Riga. It would not be an effort for 
him to stretch out his destroying hand, even from 
far Tibet, and silence her forever when the right 
moment should come. And so, for the time being, 
she had her own way, as it seemed. Vistas opened 
before her which seemed limitless, visions of wealth 
beyond any dreams she had ever had, and her head 
was almost turned by it. What might wait for her 
in the future she could not guess, when such unex- 
pected good fortune had come already. But she 
determined that she would lose nothing of what fate, 
in its generosity, bestowed on her. She, therefore, 
saw the newspaper reporters, and told them just such 
pretty little tales as she wished to see in print about 
herself and her new religion. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


207 


“Theosophy” was, therefore, quite a well-known 
name already, and it was merely as a subject of 
general conversation that Lord Ferdinand introduced 
it in his desultory talk with Gray. But when Gray 
answered him by saying, “Great Heavens, Ferdie, 
I can think of nothing else to-night,” then Lord 
Ferdinand, scenting a new sensation, promptly moved 
himself and his half-finished bottle of wine to his 
neighbour’s table. 

“Now, Gray,” he said, “ I can see you are in this 
business. Now just tell me all about it.” 

Gray shook his head. 

“I could never tell you all about it,” he said, 
“ because that’s beyond the power of mortal man. 
I can tell you what I know. It’s a grand idea being 
run, I feel sure, to her own advantage, by an un- 
scrupulous old woman. But the thing is so difficult 
to describe that if you want to know anything about 
it you had better come and see for yourself.” 

“See for myself! What, will you take me right 
into the mysterious headquarters where the old witch 
dwells ? Oh, please do ! When shall we go ? ” 

“To-morrow evening, if you like,” said Gray, 


203 


MORTAL THE MAH A TMA. 


solemnly. “ It's what the old girl calls a visitors’ 
evening. I’ve never taken anyone yet ; but, upon my 
word, I think it might be a good thing to take you, 
as a dispassionate critic and a sensible man of the 
world. ” 


MO RIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


209 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The next day Mr. Gray's first appearance at the 
lamasery was at lunch-time. He was very quiet 
until the meal was nearly over, when he addressed 
Miss Riga, and said that he wished to bring a visitor 
to the meeting in the evening. 

“ Certainly," said Miss Riga, showing very little 
interest in the matter. 

“I have never used my privilege yet, ” said Mr. 
Gray, speaking very slowly, “of bringing a visitor 
to these open meetings ; but yesterday evening I 
went into the club, and Lord Ferdinand Abchurch, 
who was sitting next me, asked me if I knew any- 
thing about Theosophy. He is a dear boy and an 
old friend of mine, so I told him all I knew. He 
seemed so very interested in the matter that I offered 
to bring him here to-night." While speaking, Gray 
had never taken his eyes off Miss Riga, and had been 
fully rewarded by a change in her countenance. 

“Lord Ferdinand Abchurch," she repeated, in an 
14 


210 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


awed voice, and then, suddenly recovering her spirit, 
she exclaimed vehemently, ‘'see how the power of 
our great creed is working.” 

“Well, yes,” said Gray, drily. “ Ferdie is certainly 
a fine recruit, if you can get him.” 

“ Get him,” said Miss Riga, “that is not our affair. 
If the Master wants him, he will claim him and take 
him for his own ; and he is coming to the meeting 
to-night, is he?” 

“Yes,” said Gray, “he is coming to the meeting.” 
He was trying, but without much success, to interpret 
the meaning of some swift glances exchanged across 
the table between Mrs. Flite and Miss Riga. Evi- 
dently they understood each other, but he found that 
he could not interpret the languageof the eyes which 
they used. He had promised to meet Lord Ferdie 
at the club at dinner, and drive down to Hampstead 
with him afterwards, which he rather regretted, for he 
had a kind of idea that some special sort of preparations 
were going to be made for the reception of the august 
visitor. However, he could not stay to watch, for 
he knew that Lord Abchurch would not come if he 
did not meet him. 


MORIAL THE MAMA TMA. 


21 1 


Daphne shut herself in her own room that afternoon, 
hoping that in the excitement of a titled visitor, which 
she knew would please her aunt very much, that she, 
herself, and her great mission in America might be 
temporarily forgotten. But not so ; her quiet was 
soon disturbed by the arrival of Miss Riga and Mrs. 
Flite in company. 

“ Daphne/' said Miss Riga in a very decided man- 
ner, “ the Master wishes you to make the preliminary 
speech to-night. ” 

Daphne was lying on a couch reading. She put 
down her book and sat up with a sudden expression 
of defiance on her face which was new to it. 

“I cannot do that, Aunt Riga,” she said; “you 
seem to know all about the subject, but I know 
nothing.” 

Mrs. Flite lifted her hands and eyes to Heaven, as 
if in horror of this statement. 

“How can you talk like this, Daphne,” said Miss 
Riga. “I only want you to repeat what you have 
often heard me say ; but it would be more effective 
from you than from me, and how you can say that 
you know nothing of the subject when you yourself 


212 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


have been the special recipient of the Master’s mes- 
sages, I cannot tell.” 

“I cannot help that,” said Daphne. I have seen 
visions, certainly, and there are strange things going 
on that I cannot explain. Bat I am not fitted to 
speak as you speak to strangers, because I have not 
been taught, and therefore cannot teach.” 

Something in Daphne's manner showed Miss Riga, 
who knew her very well, that on this point it was 
useless to do battle. Daphne was very yielding 
up to a certain point ; but when her mind was made 
up she was as immovable as a rock. Miss Riga, 
having exchanged a glance with Mrs. Flite, got up 
and left the room. Mrs. Flite then fell into ordinary 
conversation, and being a chatty and pleasant sort of 
person, well practised in ordinary wiles, she soon suc- 
ceeded in distracting Daphne's attention, and amusing 
her a little. She did not leave her until Daphne had 
dressed herself for the evening, and the girl never 
noticed, or perhaps never realised, until afterwards that 
it was Mrs. Flite who had dressed her hair, and that 
Mrs. Flite had selected from her wardrobe the very 
dress she wore, and quietly put it ready for her, and 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


21 3 


had put finishing touches to her toilet. While doing 
this she had kept Daphne's mind off the distressing 
subject, which harassed her so, and the consequence 
was, that when she took the girl down with her into 
the drawing-room, it was a Daphne very like the 
brilliant one of old that made her appearance there. 
Miss Riga looked up at her and nodded an approval 
which her confederate well understood. 

Daphne was not allowed to have time for thought, 
for the two old ladies contrived to amuse her or to 
see her amused until the moment when Mr. Gray and 
the new inquirer walked in. Lord Ferdie was one of 
those charming men who win all hearts at once, and 
there was no necessity for the schemers to pretend 
they liked him, for that was such an easy thing to do. 

The business of the meeting was commenced within 
a few minutes after his arrival. Miss Riga delivered 
the preliminary speech as usual, but with some little 
embroideries for Lord Ferdie's benefit. While this 
was going on Mrs. Flite came to Daphne, and whis- 
pered a few words into her ear. 

4 'There is a message from the Master for Lord 
Ferdinand Abchurch, and you are to deliver it to him." 


214 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


“Give it to me, then,” said Daphne. 

“You are to say,” said Mrs. Flite, “that ” 

“What do you mean,” said Daphne, “I do not 
understand.” 

“ If I tell you the words,” said Mrs. Flite, “ will you 
repeat them to him as a message from the Master? 
This order has been given to Miss Riga.” 

Daphne turned and looked Mrs. Flite straight in 
the face, and the woman's eyes fell before her gaze. 

“ No,” she said, “ I will not ; I must be convinced 
of the reality of the message before I can do such a 
thing as that.” 

“Oh, Daphne,” said Mrs. Flite, “ you will bring a 
terrible punishment upon yourself by this disobe- 
dience and incredulity.” 

She said no more but got up and left her, and 
Daphne, sitting alone, became plunged in thought. 
Terrible suspicions were beginning to work in her 
mind, and the horror of them rushed back upon her 
now with redoubled vigour. Gray, who was sitting 
opposite, watched her ceaselessly, and had taken 
careful note of the little play enacted before his eyes. 
He understood very well that she had been asked to 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA . 


215 


do something and had refused ; but what could it be ? 
Seeing that she was left entirely alone, he devoted his 
attention to Mrs. Flite, who went about the room 
with an air which convinced him that she had some 
plan to carry out. Further stanzas from Mr. Water's 
wonderful book, depicting the creation of the world, 
were read, and a discussion upon these was com- 
menced. Gray noticed that while this discussion 
went on Mrs. Flite devoted herself to reaching Lord 
Abchurch's neighbourhood by easy and scarcely 
noticeable stages. No one would have guessed what 
she was doing, who had not been as keenly on the 
watch as he was. Presently he saw Lord Ferdie 
start, and then look at some small thing which was 
in his hand, and then quickly close his hand upon 
it. What was this ? That he decided to find out from 
Lord Abchurch. In the meantime he observed that 
Mrs. Flite now quieted down, and presently took 
her original place with an air of having accomplished 
her task. 

Lord Ferdie’s private cab was waiting for him, and 
when the meeting broke up he asked Gray to drive 
back to town with him. Gray agreed, for reasons of 


2l6 


MO AVAL THE MAHATMA. 


his own. As soon as they were in the cab Lord 
Abchurch said to him : “Now tell me, what does all 
this mean ? ” 

“ I brought you here,” said Gray, “ that you might 
tell me.” 

“I suppose you know,” said Lord Ferdie, “that I 
have received a Mahatmic missive — a letter from the 
Master himself — in the course of the evening.” 

“I guessed as much,” said Gray. 

“It appears,” said Lord Ferdie, “that I have all the 
characteristics of the neophyte of the first water, if I 
choose to go in for the higher life. I may become a 
Mahatmic within a reasonable and measurable time. 
Awfully nice that, dear boy.” 

“Well, what do you think of it? ” said Gray. 

“I want to know,” said Lord Ferdie, “ what posi- 
tion Miss Royal occupies in the whole business. I 
would stake my life on that girl's honesty and truth. 
They are to be read in her face. She, surely, is not 
hypocrite nor conjuror as she is depicted.” 

“Now,” said Gray, “ you come to the crux of the 
whole matter, you get beyond me. Miss Royal is 
what spiritualists call clairvoyant. She sees visions 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 217 

and dreams dreams. I have had them from her own 
lips, and they are so strange that it is no wonder that 
she is entangled in this network. On the face of the 
thing the whole fabric appears to be mere charla- 
tanry, but my knowledge of Miss Royal and of Julian 
Arundel convinces me that there is something else 
in it, something else which cannot yet be explained. " 

“ Then you cannot enlighten me/' said Lord Ferdie. 

“Not yet," said Gray. 

“Well, in that case," said Lord Ferdie, “I will 
investigate for myself. Miss Royals face induces 
me to do that. I shall go down to-morrow, and talk 
the whole day. Perhaps I shall become a member, 
I don’t know." 

“And this," said Gray, “this trouble you take 
because Miss Royal is beautiful? " 

“Yes, "said Lord Ferdie, “ but, not only that. Her 
face has the light of truth in it, and I want to under- 
stand the situation." 


2l8 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


CHAPTER XX. 

The next day Gray found there was a mysterious 
atmosphere about the house. There seemed to be 
some important business on hand, of which he knew 
nothing. He soon detected that Daphne occupied a 
different position on this day from any she had oc- 
cupied before. She was interviewed by one person 
after the other, much as a queen might be interviewed 
by her ministers. Hitherto she had always been 
treated as a child that was to obey, and therefore he 
saw there must be some change, for which he had not 
been prepared. He took an opportunity as early as 
possible in the day to ask Daphne what it meant. He 
did not get this opportunity until quite late in the 
afternoon, for all the morning Daphne stayed in her 
own room, and no one saw her but Mrs. Flite and 
Miss Riga. In the afternoon, however, pale and ex- 
hausted, she came into the drawing-room, and there 
Gray found her. 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA 


219 


“What is the mystery, to-day, Miss Royal/’ he 
said, “ it seems as if this is some great occasion/' 

“Why, of course it is, Mr. Gray," she answered. 
“ Why, don't you know this is my birthday?" 

“ Your birthday," said Gray, who seemed suddenly 
struck by some thought which he did not care to 
express. 

“ Yes, I come of age to-day," said Daphne, “ and 
it was to have been my wedding-day. Two years 
have passed since it was fixed, but how changed it 
all is now ! " 

“ I offer you all the good wishes possible," said 
Mr. Gray, “ but you must excuse me if my first feel- 
ing is one of curiosity. I want to know what those 
old ladies have been talking about all the morning. 
It is no business of mine, but I have been your 
friend so far in Julian's absence, and I may be of 
use to you yet." 

“ Oh," said Daphne, “it is nothing but money, 
always money ; I am perfectly sick of the subject. 
It does not interest me at all." 

“ It may not interest you," said Gray, “ but never- 
theless it is a very serious matter. You don't realise 


2 20 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


how serious it is. Will you tell me what is going 
on?” 

“I would if I could,” said Daphne, “but it is im- 
possible. Our lawyer is coming directly, and I have 
to sign a number of papers. That is all I can tell 
you. ” 

“But why is it all you can tell me,” said Gray, 
“why should you not tell me what the papers are? ” 

“ For a very simple reason,” replied Daphne, “ I 
have promised not to tell anyone.” 

Gray replied to this in a low whistle. 

“ Then the old ladies mean business,” he said, 
“ and I wish to goodness I could find out what they are 
doing. What do you mean by saying they extracted 
a promise from you that you would tell nobody 
about it?” 

“ Oh, what does it matter,” said Daphne, “ there 
are much more important things in the world than 
money. ” 

Gray made no direct reply, for indeed this did not 
need a direct answer. He walked about the room 
for a moment, and then turning to Daphne, he said : 

“ Answer me seriously, Miss Royal, do you con- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


221 


sider yourself bound to say nothing about the busi- 
ness that you are doing to-day, and to tell no one 
what those papers are ? ” 

“ Of course/' said Daphne, with an air of great 
surprise. “ Did I not tell you I had given my word ? ” 

A little later in the afternoon, Miss Riga's lawyer 
arrived : the servants were told that he was the only 
visitor to be admitted. This was a detail which did 
not escape Gray's attention. A great many visitors 
came to the house now in the afternoon ; it had be- 
come a sort of public resort, audit was a very notice- 
able fact that the house was to be closed to visitors. 
Gray knew that he could do nothing, but yet he could 
not tear himself away. He walked about the house, 
and wondered what were the bonds with which 
Daphne was binding herself, and how far she 
was robbing herself of her own ; but he was power- 
less. And so at last he resolved to go to town, and 
talk to Lord Ferdie about it. He had come to the 
conclusion that it would be a great relief to have a 
confidant in the matter. Just as he was passing 
through the hall to go out he heard Miss Riga's 
voice give an order to one of the servants. This was to 


222 


MORI A L THE MAHA TMA . 


the effect that now, or at anytime, if Lord Ferdinand 
Abchurch was to call he was to be admitted. 

“ Well/' said Gray to himself as he went out by 
the front door, “ that is an invitation for LordFerdie. 

I will take it to him. He has great natural advan- 
tages, and he may be able to do what I cannot. ” 

In the early part of the evening of Daphne’s com- 
ing of age, the house was very quiet. She was sitting 
alone in her room and thinking. She never gave a 
thought — not a serious thought — to the business 
transactions she had been engaged in, for she con- 
sidered them of no account, and she had so much 
else to think about. 

Just twenty-one — only a girl still with such strange 
experiences of her life. All the other members of the 
Lamasery were out of doors, with the exception of 
the two old ladies. They had a little sitting-room of 
their own upstairs, where the interview with the 
lawyer had been held. And after he had gone and 
Daphne had left them, Miss Riga locked the door in 
order to enjoy a few minutes’ real private conversa- 
tion. 

“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Flite, the moment 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


223 


she heard the key turned, and knew it was safe to 
speak, “ you have been successful beyond my wild- 
est dreams. It is all right now, dear, there is nothing 
to fear. We have not got much time left, it is true, 
but what we have got we can enjoy thoroughly.” 

“ We may,” said Miss Riga, who did not look so 
jubilant. “ So far everything has succeeded splen- 
didly, but don’t forget we have still Daphne to deal 
with. She has signed these deeds, which will hold 
good if we can get her out of the country, but can 
we ? I don’t know how to convince her that she has 
a mission. The child is beyond me, she is not like 
the rest of them. And yet she is the only one who 
really believes in the thing itself, and I cannot make 
it out.” 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Flite, “ there is only one thing 
to be done ; we must ‘ hedge.’ ” 

“ You are an old gambler,” said Miss Riga ; “ per- 
haps you can tell me how to do it. At the moment 
I don’t quite see my way.” 

“ Oh, it is simple enough,” said Mrs. Flite ; tc you 
have a grand card in your hands. Now, keep Daphne 
up to the idea that she is going to America, and if 


224 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


she goes to America, you and I can arrange it very 
easily. I take her, and I guarantee that she does not 
come back until you have done all you wish. In the 
meantime, compel her to bring Lord Abchurch into 
the camp, and you will have in him just as great a 
prize as in Daphne herself, I grant you ; but you 
will have to use a more subtle diplomacy, because 
he is a man of the world. But, nevertheless, if he 
once lends himself to this absurd affair, he will have 
to pay very heavily to get out of it.” It was at that 
moment Miss Riga opened the door again, and gave 
the order which Gray overheard. She returned to 
the room, locked the door, and sat down by Mrs. 
Flite. “ And do you think,” she said, “ that he will 
ever lend himself to this affair? I fancy he is too 
good a bird to be caught. He is too clever and too 
well educated.” 

“ Yes, I know,” said Mrs. Flite, “ he is both ; but 
then you must remember that he is one of those men 
who sacrifice themselves for a cause. I know him 
— not personally, of course — but I know his reputa- 
tion very well, indeed. In spite of his being a peer 
of the realm, he has been a Socialist, and he got dis- 


MORI A L THE MAHA TMA. 


22 5 


gusted with it. Every fantastical cause that has 
come up in his time, which promised to benefit the 
human race, he has gone into. All those people he 
has been mixed up with have benefited a little. I 
only propose that he should do the same thing as us, 
and we will benefit a great deal. It may be possible 
to get him into the community and take Daphne to 
America as well, but certainly we will do one thing 
or the other. " 

“And how are we going to get him into the com- 
munity/' inquired Miss Riga. 

“We can only do it through Daphne," said Mrs. 
Flite, “for Daphne can do it. He would be more 
impressed by the air of innocence and conviction 
about that girl last night than by anything you said or 
anything he saw. Daphne was very obstinate about 
giving him a message, but I think she can be con- 
quered, and if she gives him a message in which he is 
told to enter the brotherhood and give his life to the 
cause, the whole thing can be settled. I will take her 
to America the next day." 

“Well, how is it to be done? You are showing 

yourself the general now. I must confess Daphne is 
15 


226 


MORI A L THE MAH A TMA. 


beyond me. I can manage the rest, but not Daphne.” 

“Well, leave it to me,” said Mrs. Flite, “and let 
me try my hand. If you undertake to back up 
everything I say without questioning me I think I 
can manage it” 

“Agreed,” said Miss Riga, who was very com- 
placent, having succeeded in her own enterprise 
beyond her wildest hopes. 

The result of this was that a little later in the even- 
ing instead of making their appearance in the draw- 
ing room, Mrs. Flite and Daphne were shut up in 
Daphne's room, and Mrs. Flite was a diplomatist of 
the first water, and had always been agreeable to 
Daphne, who looked upon her, though she did not 
like her, as a friend rather than otherwise. This 
evening Mrs. Flite pursued the same policy. She 
talked to her very pleasantly about all manner of 
things and put Daphne at her ease. Then quite 
suddenly she turned to the girl and said : 

“ Now, Daphne, I have a little piece of business to 
do, and I want you to answer me very plainly. 
Why did you refuse to give that message to Lord 
Ferdinand Abchurch last night?” 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


227 


Daphne was amazed and for a moment sat silent. 
Then she collected herself and said, “ for this reason, 
that I had no proof that it was genuine. ” 

“Oh, indeed,” said Mrs. Flite, “who is it you 
mistrust, myself or Miss Riga?” 

“How can I tell you that I distrust either of you, 
but I am simply in the dark about the whole matter.” 

“You are more than that, Daphne/' said Mrs. 
Flite ; “ you do distrust one or the other of us. Let 
me tell you, child, you have been so associated with 
us that you cannot escape from that association. I 
am only a learner, but now I accept it, and therefore 
it is not for me to speak as you or your aunt would, 
who have been in this thing from the commence- 
ment But I am a woman of the world, and I can 
assure you that it is impossible to separate yourself 
from her now. Whatever this thing is, whether it 
is genuine or whether it is a fraud, you and she are 
identified, and do you see what I mean,” she said 
after a moments pause. 

Daphne rose, drawing herself up to her full height, 
before she replied. “You imply,” she said, “that 
the whole thing is a fraud, and that I have not got 


228 


MO RIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


the power to escape from it, having been associated 
with it so far. Is that what you mean ? ” 

“ You can take it so if you like/' said Mrs. Flite, 
composedly. “And let me tell you/' she went on, 
“that your future is not in your own hands. If you 
suspect your aunt of forging these messages, which 
convey orders to her disciples, why should she not 
suspect you of doing it ? ” 

This was totally a new idea to Daphne, and she 
stood silent and astonished. “ If she thinks you are 
going to accuse her,” said Mrs. Flite, “ she will settle 
the whole thing very easily by accusing you before- 
hand.” Daphne still made no answer, her brain was 
reeling under this revelation. 

“And you know,” went on Mrs. Flite, “that we 
are all of us, unfortunately, in the power of the law. 
If these messages have been forged, and if any of us 
should choose to go to law for redress, money has 
been taken on false pretences. It won't do, my 
dear, we must hold together now. What your fate 
may be I cannot say, but the fact that you yourself 
talk of visions which you consider real, puts you in 
a more helpless position than any of the others. At 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


22 £ 

the very least you will be looked upon as mad. 
Now, don’t be foolish, but lay up for yourself a quiet 
future. If you play into our hands we will play into 
yours. You have nothing to do, but when Lord 
Ferdie next visits us to give to him the message 
which I shall dictate to you. He will accept it from 
you as a truth, because he believes in you. I can 
see that at once. As soon as we have rescued him 
for the cause you and I will take the next boat for 
America, and when we are once there I won't allow 
you to be bothered any more. You shall be free 
from the whole thing — you will have done all that is 
wanted. But this one thing you positively must do. 

For a moment there was complete silence after 
Mrs. Flite had delivered this little speech. Daphne 
had stood quite still, had not moved, had said never a 
word since first she rose from her chair in her amaze- 
ment. But the amazement was giving place to a 
rage and great indignation. At last she found speech. 

“ And this thing," she said, “ I positively refuse to 
do. I would infinitely rather end my days in Colny 
Hatch, or in the workhouse, than lend myself to 
these tricks and frauds of yours." 


230 


MORI A L THE MAHA TMA. 


‘'Merciful power !” exclaimed Mrs. Flite, who 
had not in the least expected such a reply, “ do you 
mean it ? ” 

“I mean it,” said Daphne, in a manner which she 
never hitherto used and which seemed to change her 
in a moment to a woman, “I mean it,” she said, 
“and you will not find me alter, and I know you 
now for what you are. If this thing is controlled by 
that Master whom I have seen in my visions, then 
that Master is as bad as you are yourselves. Noth- 
ing will induce me to be your tool or his.” 

Just at this moment a loud knock at the front door 
resounded through the house. The two women 
were so absorbed in what they were saying to each 
other that they took no interest in it, and simply re- 
mained as they were, looking into each other's eyes. 
Someone was admitted to the house, and presently 
a servant came and said that Miss Royal was 
wanted. 

“Come in,” said Daphne, who was still standing 
like a statue, “ what am I wanted for?” 

“Miss Riga has sent me,” said the servant, “to 
tell you that Lord Ferdinand Abchurch is here.” 


MO RIAL THE MAHA Till A, 


231 


“ Then you can tell Miss Riga that I am not com- 
ing down.” 

Mrs. Flite remained where she was, turning the 
whole matter over in her mind and wondering what 
to do next, for her generalship was outwitted. She 
was a creature of diplomacy, expecting always to 
meet the same quality, but she had met something 
real instead, something like a rock she could not 
move. A moment later Miss Riga herself entered 
the room. 

“ What is the matter?” she said. “I want Daphne 
downstairs; it is no good me talking to Lord Ferdie, 
you know that very well.” 

“ I am not coming,” said Daphne, suddenly flam- 
ing up, “ you have gone too far, and I defy you both. 
I do more — if the Master has ordered these things 
then I defy the Master himself. Look to yourselves, 
for I shall speak the truth from henceforward, now 
that I know it, to whoever asks me.” So saying, she 
swept out of the room, leaving the two old ladies 
looking at each other in dismay. 


232 


MORIAL THE MAH ATM A % 


CHAPTER XXI. 

Daphne did not leave her room at all that evening 
until everyone had gone to bed. Lord Ferdie stayed 
some hours in the hope that she would appear, but 
she did not. All the time he was in the house, she 
paced her room to and fro, harassed by a tumult of 
thought. Late in the night, when all the house was 
quiet, an unexpected calm fell suddenly on her 
troubled spirit. A sense of new strength came to 
her, a feeling of resolution, deep enough to help her 
face the Evil One himself. 

There is some mysterious inspiration to the restless 
soul in the silence and darkness of the night. Daphne, 
now grown still, and sitting silently in her room, 
felt, as the night advanced, as if she were now alone 
with the soul of the world, as if she could now 
demand the truth and command it. Led by some 
impulse which she could not have explained even to 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


2 33 


herself, she rose suddenly, and taking her reading 
lamp in her hand, left the room, and went down the 
dark passages and the great silent, shadowy stair- 
way to the drawing-room. She walked across it, 
and passed through the archway with an inspired 
look in her face which lent it a strange light. Little 
did she guess that as she approached the easel that 
held the portrait of Morial, she entered the range of 
Julian's vision ! — that he could see her as plainly as 
though he were in the room with her. Her beauty 
seemed to him unearthly, with this strange, set ex- 
pression on her face, but greater than ever. She 
seemed transfigured, as if she had cast off the tram- 
mels of her body ; she looked like an angel. 

Julian was keeping vigil, watching the crystal. 

He had seen the whole proceedings of the day in 
his old home, but had not been able to understand 
them properly, for want of a clue. He had remained 
riveted to the contemplation of this mystic mirror, 
which revealed to them all the doings of those he 
loved. 

Morial left him alone to watch and to ponder. 
Until he had exhausted his interest in his old home 


234 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


and surroundings, and offered up his heart at the 
altar of sacrifice, it was useless to attempt to initiate 
him further, or excite his interest in any other matter. 
In occultism, whether it be good or evil, this is the 
first step ; and until it has been absolutely accom- 
plished it is in no way possible to accomplish any 
other. 

Therefore the neophyte was left alone with this 
terrible mirror, which reflected the life which he had 
left. It seemed an impossibility to him to tear him- 
self away, and indeed I doubt whether anyone who 
has not been through the experience could imagine 
how much more terrible than any unexpected ghosts 
or extraordinary apparitions these familiar thoughts 
of home were to Julian when so far removed from 
them. To see and feel all that Daphne was doing 
and thinking, and to realise the hypocrisy and shams 
that surrounded her, appalled him as no dweller 
of the threshold, nor Angel Gabriel even, could have 
done, for the sense of responsibility upon himself, 
the sense of neglected duty was almost more than he 
could bear. Why had he left a plain, straightforward 
path — the path that lies before every man, who has 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


2 35 


taken up the ordinary responsibilities of life, — why 
had he left it for this wild unintelligible quest? 

He felt like a lost soul, looking out from its fleshy 
prison, here in this desert, and the work of his own 
hands, for if he had not come away, none of this 
would have happened. 

Daphne advanced straight across the room to the 
easel on which Moriahs portrait stood. She lit the 
candles on each side of it, and then she lit a number 
of other lights in the room. Julian could see all this ; 
the crystal was like a shining diamond, with the 
light within it. Then she returned to the portrait, 
unlocked the doors, and flung them wide open. She 
stook back from it, and looked steadily at it, draw- 
ing herself up to her full height, and wore a look 
such as he had never seen upon her face before. 

This seemed hardly like the girl he had known ; 
although she had the same features — this was like 
the priestess of Isis. She remained silent for some 
moments, and Julian was very much puzzled as to 
what she was doing, but suddenly he understood. 
She extended her arms, and pointing at the portrait 
uttered the one word, “Morial ! ” in a tone of com- 


236 MO AVAL THE MAHATMA . 

mand. The word was uttered again and again, and 
then, to his surprise, she turned and faced him full, 
as though she realised in what direction to throw her 
command. Again she uttered the word, again she 
used this command, and there was something in her 
voice and form as she did so that made Julian quail 
before her, and feel glad that he had nothing to be 
ashamed of in her eyes. In the same instant his 
whole attention was absorbed by the fact that another 
person was with him. 

Morial was there ! Morial stood beside him ! 
Morial had answered the call ! 

Julian with difficulty drew his eyes from the figure 
within the crystal which stood there like a shining 
spirit, and looked at the figure beside him. Yes, it 
was Morial, who had attended to this call that came 
from the other part of the world. Julian looked 
back at Daphne, and he understood, when he looked 
at her, that Morial had come within her vision. She 
saw him, and she still commanded him, her hand 
outstretched, her face resolute. She was no longer 
his tool, he was hers. And while Julian observed 
this with the utmost amazement, the sound of her 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA. 


237 


voice falling on his ears, came, as it seemed, from a 
long distance, but still perfectly distinct. 

“Morial,” she said, “I command you, answer 
me. What is it you want with Lord Ferdinand 
Abchurch ? ” and, to Julian's amazement, he heard the 
beautiful voice of the man at his side answer 
her: — 

“ I want him as my servant." 

“And is it you, that you would have me play 
these tricks upon him ? "said Daphne. “If you want 
him why not approach him honestly yourself, in- 
stead of letting these monsters prey upon him." 

“That does not concern me," said Morial, “ why 
do you question me about it?" 

“Because,” said Daphne, speaking calmly and 
quietly, every word dropping like the tinkle of sil- 
ver on the ears of those who listened, “because I 
see cheating and trickery, and I will not lend my- 
self to it. If you are one of the White Brotherhood 
you will not employ such methods as these. An- 
swer me, I command you, and tell me what you 
want of Lord Abchurch.” 

And Morial answered her, “ He has a great polit- 


238 MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 

tical future before him, and I want that future for 
my own purpose.” 

“ For your evil and selfish purpose,” cried Daphne. 
“ No, you shall not have him. He is honest, and I 
will not be the tool of these wretches who would take 
his money, and teach him nothing. If you are the 
true Master, you can influence him directly without 
this paltry teaching. But you are not ; I know you, 
and I denounce you. The first step you force us 
into, poor and paltry though it is, compels us to give 
up our souls and our consciences ; and then, perhaps, 
we are of some use to you. That would not be if 
you were true. I will not be a willing tool, I refuse 
to be, and I shall denounce you, and deny you, here 
in your own temple.” 

As she said this, it seemed to Julian as if she was 
actually materialised before his eyes, as if the crystal 
was merely a frame for her living form, or rather, a 
frame that surrounded it. Yes, Daphne stood there 
in front of him, but her eyes were fixed upon Morial. 
It was to him that she gave all her attention. Again 
he made an effort to take his eyes from her, and look 
at the strange being who stood by his side. He did 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


2 3 9 


so, and saw a thing stranger than he expected. 
Morial stood there like a statue, tinted, coloured cer- 
tainly, but just as if carved in marble, and for a mo- 
ment Julian was convinced that life had gone from 
him, that he was turned to stone. He cried out, 
hardly knowing that he did so, “ Daphne, what have 
you done.” These words penetrated to her ears, 
through the strange medium which had carried her 
voice to him. He heard her give a sharp cry of joy 
and of exaltation, and looking back he saw that her 
eyes were now fixed on him, and she had stretched 
out both her hands as if in welcome. And then she 
spoke directly to him : “ Julian,” she said, “ have no 
fear, the Good Spirit will save us ; see, the dark mys- 
tery is soulless, he cannot speak or live in the light 
of conscience.” 

Julian sprang forward, almost convinced that he 
could touch her, as he stood there, but his action 
induced some change which drew the mysterious 
cloud over the crystal, and in a moment the vision 
was gone, and he stood in the dim light of Morials 
laboratory alone with this soulless figure. 

Never had he experienced such a sensation as 


240 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA . 


that which came over him when he looked at this 
statue, which appeared truly void of life. Was it 
possible that this was the Morial of power, of God- 
like attributes whom he had so feared? Could this 
be the great one who could span the earth, and who 
had, by his own magic power, created this extraor- 
dinary mirror which destroyed time and space ? 
Could it be? It was, — that he knew, for only a few 
minutes ago he had stood beside him ; what could 
it mean then ? Julian had not had time to realize 
the meaning of the miracle that had occurred close 
to him, under his agonised scrutiny. He did not yet 
grasp all that Daphne had meant in her last words. 
They came to her as an inspiration, a direct know- 
ledge of the Unseen which governs the world ; but 
to him they were only words as yet, and he w T as ut- 
terly baffled by the extraordinary change he saw be- 
fore him. The unearthiness, the weirdness of it sur- 
passed anything he could have imagined. It seemed 
as if with Morials silence, all the world was silent. 
There was no sound, no movement, nothing ; and 
he knew not where to go or where to turn in this 
strange wilderness without Morial’s aid. But before 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


24 I 


he had had time to do more than wonder at what he 
saw, a change came over Mortal's face, and life re- 
turned, slowly and steadily, and the first sign of the 
animated soul was the brilliant smile of the beautiful 
youth whose person had so fascinated Julian when 
he first found Morial in the hermitage. The magi- 
cian was gone, the dark master was in abeyance, 
and what he saw was the young man whose mere 
glance excited sympathy and aroused love. 

“ Something very curious has happened, ” said 
Morial, in the most ordinary, pleasant tone of voice, 

4 ‘and I do not yet know the reason of it. Come 
with me and we will leave this place, and take the 
rest I am sure we both need.” 

So saying he led the way out of the great room, 
and Julian with one glance at the darkened mirror 
followed him without comment. Morial went down- 
stairs and through the corridors into the room in 
which he had first entertained Julian. This room 
was always brilliantly lit, always ready as if for a 
feast ; it always had in it a subtle atmosphere of 
luxury and pleasure. Morial flunghimself upon one 

of the couches, and seemed as if he was going to 
16 


242 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


fall into a sleep or a deep reverie. But after a mo- 
ment he started up, and began to walk about the 
room, apparently unconscious, or else forgetful of 
Julian's presence. 

‘ ‘ There is something I do not understand about 
it,” he said. “ There is something stronger than 
myself I have met with ; through the long cen- 
turies in which I have succeeded I have met with 
nothing like this. Kuthumi, I must speak with you, 
I must speak with both my friends.” 

Almost before he had uttered the words there came 
the delicate sound of silvery bells on the air, and 
then a voice, remote, but very clear. “You want 
us, Morial,” said this voice, “you are in great danger, 
and we are both perfectly conscious of it. We shall 
be with you at once.” 

Morial appeared now suddenly to remember Julian’s 
presence. He turned to him abruptly, and speaking 
to him in a cold, hard voice, “ you must rest,” he said. 

“ You mean,” replied Julian, with something of the 
manner he would have used to an ordinary man, 
“you want to leave me.” 

“Certainly,” answered Morial, “unless you rest 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 


243 


you will die, for your vigil has been a terrible and 
long one. Come, let me give you some medicine, or 
wine, whatever you like to call it, and then you will 
rest in peace, until there is need for you again.” 

As Morial spoke, Julian recognised for the first 
time, that he was absolutely worn out, and he knew 
very well that he needed all his strength. He had 
benefited in so extraordinary a manner from Mortal's 
cordials before, and he did not hesitate to drink the 
one offered to him now. He knew that he could 
not stay where he was, his faculties were succumb- 
ing, and he would not have the strength to remain, 
even if he had been privileged to do so. But Morial 
was his host, and wished him gone. Being a gentle- 
man as well as a neophyte, he drank the wine offered 
him, and went away to the ivory couch, where, in- 
stantly, he was lost in sleep. 


244 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA . 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Julian’s next sensation was that of awakening with 
a sudden start which comes from the knowledge 
that there is an unexpected person in the room. 
The feeling was one of awe, as well as surprise. It 
seemed to him as if some very strange visitor had 
come to his bedside, for the moment he opened his 
eyes they rested on the figure of a man who was 
standing beside him, looking at him gravely and 
earnestly. He had never seen this figure before, and 
yet it gave him that curious feeling of recognition 
which most of us know. He knew at once that this 
grave man, this grey-bearded cassida, and yet so 
mild looking, was of Morial’s brotherhood. His 
heart leaped within him at the thought. Perhaps 
this was a Master who was human, and who had 
retained a sense of conscience and honour. These 
thoughts flashed through his mind on the moment 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 


*45 


of waking, while he lay without moving, gazing on 
this unexpected figure. But as soon as he was quite 
awake, which from the effect of surprise was very 
quickly, his visitor drew a chair from its place, put 
it near to Julians couch, and sat down upon it in 
the most friendly manner. 

“ You are rested now, are you not? ” he asked. 

“Perfectly,” said Julian. “What is it that lies 
before me now? I have all my strength back, and I 
amr eady.” 

“Oh, nothing so alarming,” he replied, “only 
a simple matter of discussion. I have come to 
talk to you a little, to try and make you realise your 
position, and how madly you are sacrificing a great 
future for a merely temporal good.” 

“And how do you know all this about me?” said 
Julian. 

“There is nothing wonderful about that,” was the 
answer. “I have known all about you, as you call 
it, since you left London in answer to Morial’s call, 
and I have been talking to him ever since you came 
into this room and fell asleep.” 

“Oh, then you are Kuthumi,” with an instan- 


246 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


taneous feeling of conviction. “ It was you whom 
Morial called to his aid and counsel/' 

A curious feeling of defiance took possession of 
him, as he said this, and he added, inspired by this 
feeling, “Why have you come to see me, what 
have you to say to me ? ” 

“I will answer your questions one by one,” said 
his visitor, with the gentle, benevolent manner which 
seemed to be his strongest characteristic. “You are 
quite right, your intuition serves you well. I am 
Kuthumi, and I came at Mortal's call, to counsel 
him with the third of our brotherhood, whose name 
you do not know, and never will know. I have 
come to talk to you, because Morial has selected 
you for a great mission, and in your success or fail- 
ure his welfare is concerned.” 

“ But I am only a child in the hands of you,” said 
Julian, rather bitterly, “ you that are Masters of the 
earth — of life.” 

“Yes, you are only a child,” said Kuthumi very 
composedly. “You are less than a child in our 
hands. We can take your life, we can give it back 
to you, but the dominant will in you we cannot 


MO AVAL THE MAH A TMA. 


247 


control, unless you determine to offer up your heart 
in the sacrifice which Morial showed you.” 

“And if I refuse?” said Julian. 

“Then you must fail on the very threshold of the 
great life, as so many have done, and with your 
failure you must yield your earthly life. No man 
can go so far as you have gone, and go back into 
the world and face it. That cannot be permitted. 
Pause, and consider, my friend, before you refuse to 
sacrifice the youth, and health, and strength of this 
life you are now living ; pause a thousand times, and 
consider before you sacrifice all the potentialities 
that lie in the centuries before you if you persevere 
in the great life.” 

Julian was silent for a moment, and then he said, 
in a very low voice, “Well, what is required of me, 
what does the surrender of the heart actually mean ?” 

“You know,” was the answer, “ as well as I can 
tell you. You have to give up all thought of those 
whom you have loved. It is not bare selfishness in 
its simple form that will ruin you in your great 
faith, but it is the thought for others which paralyses 
you. This seems unlike selfishness, but, believe me, 


248 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA. 


it is not. Why should you care for one or two indi- 
viduals who pass away as the flowers pass away, so 
short is their span ? Why should that care interfere 
with the possibilities of a chosen life which shall be 
continuous, and shall have the great gift of continuity 
through all ages. To you is the great opportunity 
given of becoming one of ourselves when we pass 
on. Although we have centuries of immortality on 
this earth, yet there comes an end to this, because 
our power becomes too great, others step in and 
take our places, and Morial has offered you this one 
great chance. If you take it, if you decide to blot 
out your personal passions and affections, then to 
the whole race you may be as a god.” 

“And to do that,” said Julian, “I have to blot out, 
not only my affections but my conscience.” 

It seemed to him, almost as if Daphne prompted 
him to say those words, as if her spirit was with him. 
In reality he saw her spirit-like figure, as he had seen 
her in the crystal, clearly before him. She stood 
there, or her memory of her stood there, like an 
angel, forbidding him to be deceived by this Jesuitical 
reasoning. 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


249 


“The first thing/' said Kuthumi, with perfect calm- 
ness, that the neophyte surrenders to his Master is 
his conscience. What can a mortal creature of a 
short span of life, such as yours, know of actual right 
and wrong? Nothing; it is impossible. You must 
surrender your own judgment to that of those who 
are greater than yourself. If you cannot do this, you 
can do nothing." 

“I cannot do it," said Julian, “it is useless. I am 
beginning to understand now, as I recover my facul- 
ties, the meaning of all that I have seen, in my long 
vigil, in the crystal. If those visions were true, and 
I cannot doubt them, for they bore the internal stamp 
of truth, then it is my duty to go back, and to save 
the helpless creatures whom I have left behind me 
from the consequences of my fanatical act. I left my 
home maddened, and carried out of myself, by a 
supernatural call. I return to it convinced that the 
every-day duties must be attended to before these 
others which are out of focus with life." 

‘ ‘ Let me tell you, " said Kuthumi, ‘ ‘ that if you refuse 
to enter upon the ceremony of sacrifice, you will never 
leave this place." 


250 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA. 


There was a long pause after this. Julian knew 
well what the sinister words uttered in that sweet 
voice meant. He thought, for and against, but his 
own reason weighed not so heavily with him as the 
memory of Daphne's words. 

“If I can be certain," he said, “that what I am 
doing will produce good I will sacrifice myself, but I 
will not sacrifice others, and that terrible crystal 
which reflects thoughts as well as deeds shows me 
that others are being sacrificed. 

Kuthumi looked at him with a kind of sorrow rather 
than anger. “And for such a poor thing," he said, 
“ are you determined to let all go ?" 

‘ ‘ What else can I do ? ” said Julian, suddenly aroused 
into a feeling of passionate expostulation ; “if Morial 
would act, as I would act in his place, if he would let 
me use that crystal as Daphne used it, tell her the 
truth about everything, and guard her against those 
who are cheating and telling falsehoods, then I would 
suffer anything, I would endure anything." 

“Yes," said Kuthumi, “but then you have no right 
to dictate to the Master. He knows best his own 
methods." 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


251 


“I am not fit for the life,” was Julian's reply, “and 
I suppose I have wrecked my own life ; but even if 
it be so, nevertheless, those whom I have loved and 
trusted must remain my first care, and, in spite of all 
you say, I cannot permit Daphne to be made a tool 
of liars and cheats while I live." 

“Be it so," said Kuthumi, with the same perfect 
composed sweetness of manner, “but if you retain 
that decision, and, from what I see, I fear you will, 
you cannot live long." 

Julian was about to make some answer to these omi- 
nous words, but his voice died away before he said any- 
thing, for Kuthumi was no longer there. He vanished 
from before Julian's eyes like a mist before the sun. 
He was gone in an instant, and there was his chair 
standing where he had placed it. Julian was so sur- 
prised at this sudden departure, that he sat there for 
a few moments, gazing at the vacant chair. Why 
had Kuthumi left him so suddenly, what could this 
mean ? 

It was nearly dusk, but not quite, in London at this 
moment. Daphne, who had had a terrible day, not 
exactly of altercation, but of obstinately sticking to 


252 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


her own resolutions, and listening to the other side, 
had gone wearily up to her own room for a little quiet 
and rest. She was thinking of Julian, a terrible con- 
viction had come upon her that she would never see 
him again. As she went up the dim stairs, gray with 
the coming evening, and yet not lighted, a vision 
passed quickly before her, which made her hesitate a 
moment. In the flash of illumination she had seen 
Julian and her supernatural visitor holding their con- 
versation. The vision was gone instantly, and she 
recovered herself and went on her way, but a moment 
later she saw a figure before her, which she recog- 
nised. It was standing in the doorway of her own 
room, and as she approached it, it receded, and, enter- 
ing the room, awaited her. It was Kuthumi, as she 
had seen him a second before, in her vision, but real 
now as any man. Kuthumi with his perfect sweetness 
of manner, which would disarm even the most sus- 
picious person. Daphne saw that some great trial 
was before her, and without saying a word, or show- 
ing any feeling, she went straight into her room, and 
closed the door behind her. And then she stood and 
faced this unexpected visitor. 


MORIAL THE MAHA TMA . 


2 53 


“I am glad to see that you are not alarmed/' said 
Kuthumi, “atmy appearance here. Do you know 
that you stand in great danger ? I have come to warn 
you. You have disobeyed the Master himself. He 
can crush you instantly if he chooses, but instead of 
that he would rather save you, and therefore I have 
come to try and show you how foolish your deeds 
are. " 

“Show me, then/’ said Daphne, “what you would 
have me do." 

“The mistake you are making," said Kuthumi, very 
gently and persuasively, “is to think that you are to 
judge for yourself. That is not so ; you must let those 
who know more than you judge for yourself." 

“But I cannot yield," said Daphne, “ I must know 
what I am doing, and I must understand it." 

“If you adhere to this," said Kuthumi, “you mark 
out for yourself a future of horrible suffering. You 
cannot thus set your Master at defiance without draw- 
upon yourself the fires of expiation. Be warned. 
Do you wish to see Julian Arundel again ? " 

“Yes," said Daphne, “I do wish to see him 


again. 


254 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


“He is in your Master’s hands,” said Kuthumi, 
“powerless in his hands, and it depends on you 
whether he lives or dies. Obey the Master, and such 
teachers as he shall choose to set over you, and all 
will be well. Set him at defiance, as you do now, 
and Julian Arundel’s life must be sacrificed. Your 
influence with Julian is so great that he feels it, even 
the other side of the world.” 

Daphne’s face lit up with a brilliance that made 
her look positively angelic. She clasped her hands 
with a gesture of delight. 

“Is it possible,” she said, “that I saw Julian the 
other night ? did he hear my voice ? has he responded ? 
is that why you have come to tempt me ? You can- 
not do it,” she said, and as she spoke she seemed 
transfigured. “I would rather let Julian die than 
have him return to me with his conscience and hon- 
our broken and ruined. I would rather never see 
him again than when he returned I should have lies 
on my soul that I could never wipe out. No, Morial 
is a black master, I know it, and I repudiate him.” 

As she spoke she raised her hand with the same ges- 
ture that she used when Julian saw her in the crys- 


MORIAL THE MAH A TMA. 


255 


tal, and the same majesty transformed her figure, and 
it was scarcely recognisable. She did not know her 
own power, she could not realise it; those who are 
inspired never can. But she was startled to see that 
she had so readily silenced her tempter. Kuthumi 
faded from before her ; as she spoke he was gone. 


256 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

After this extraordinary interview, Daphne remained 
standing and thinking deeply, forgetting what she 
had come to her room for, and that she was tired, 
and wished to rest. Her whole mind was absorbed 
in her strange position, and trying hard how to act. 
While she remained thus lost in thought, a knock 
came to the door, and the servant, entering, gave her 
a little note, which she took mechanically, without 
even thinking who it came from, or what it might 
mean. But the servant waited, saying that she had 
been specially asked to take back an answer. Open- 
ing it, Daphne saw it was from Mr. Gray, begging 
her to come down to him at once into the drawing- 
room, and speak to him. She decided immediately 
to do so, for it was evident that he had some impor- 
tant reason for sending to her in this way, as they 
met continually in the ordinary manner during the 
day. 

“Tell Mr. Gray I will come down at once,” she said. 

In a very few moments she went into the big room, 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 257 

which at this time was deserted. It was all lit up for 
the evening, when there was to be a great meeting. 
Lord Ferdinand Abchurch was to become a member 
of the new sect, and a member of the inner circle of 
chosen disciples on this evening, and preparations 
were made for a full gathering ; but no one was yet 
in the great room, except Mr. Gray, who was pacing 
impatiently up and down, awaiting Daphne's en- 
trance. 

“ Miss Royal," he said, “I have to-day made a 
great discovery. Chance favoured me in that I know 
one of the firm of lawyers whom Miss Riga employs. 
I daresay what I have done seems unpardonable in 
your eyes, and indeed I can hardly justify it to myself. 
I know that I was not intended to know, and I have 
devoted myself to obtaining this knowledge, but now 
I have it, whatever you think of me, I will use it, 
that is to say, I will try and explain to you your posi- 
tion." 

“ What are you talking about ?" said Daphne, “I 
don't understand you." 

“Are you still intending to leave this country with 
Mrs. Flite ? " asked Gray. 


1 7 


258 MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 

Daphne sighed, “ I suppose so/' she said. “ I don't 
intend to go if I can help it, but after all it would be 
a trifling thing to what I am expected to do here. 
Once away from my aunt I cannot be expected, 
surely, to deceive people, as she wishes me to now. 
I am speaking very plainly, you see, Mr. Gray, but 
you know so much that there is no reason why I 
should not." 

“I know a great deal, indeed," said Gray, “I 
know you have signed a power of attorney to your 
aunt, which gives her absolute control over all 
your possessions during your absence, and I know 
that Julian gave you power of attorney when he left. 
And as soon as she has got you out of this country, 
she has both of your estates under her absolute 
control. Now that I have put it as plainly as that, 
do you see why you have been asked to leave this 
country ? " 

“ Surely she cannot be as bad as that?" said 
Daphne. 

“I may be very wrong in my estimate of human 
nature," said Mr. Gray; “but I think if you allow 
her to carry out all your plans, that if you ever return 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


2 59 


to this country, you will find both yourself and Julian 
penniless. ” 

“ But my aunt, what will she do? ” said Daphne. 

“Oh, that I cannot say, "said Gray. “But I should 
say that you will never see her again, unless some 
strong controlling hand is put upon her.” 

“But surely it will be,” cried Daphne. “The 
Master is a reality — I have seen him. Surely he 
will not allow all this to be done, merely for that one 
person's benefit.” 

“I cannot answer you,” said Gray, “I cannot 
understand it. I am certain that you and Julian both 
believe in your visions, but I know that Miss Riga 
doesn't believe in them ; and if the Master whom 
you see is using her as a tool, he must be bad him- 
self to use so bad a tool, and to allow such methods 
to be adopted.” 

“I have defied him,” said Daphne. “I have no 
mercy to expect from him ; and now I am prepared 
to defy her, now that I see this as you put it before 
me. I see how awful it appears when one looks at 
it from your point of view. I know so little of the 
value of money, that I think nothing of my losses, 


26 o 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


but I do think a great deal of her gain, wrought by 
so terrible means ; and, knowing how wicked her 
methods are, I can believe that she never intends me 
to return, and that is why Mrs. Flite is to go with 
me. 

Daphne spoke with that terrible conviction of 
treachery which shows that no further argument is 
needed. 

“I have been trying to think what to do,” said 
Gray. “You must get those papers back. You 
must remember that, even if you are willing to give 
everything you possess to that woman, you have no 
right to give everything that Julian possesses.” 

“Oh, I see it plainly,” said Daphne. “ I see that 
I shall be doing a dishonourable thing ; I shall fail 
at my post of trust. In his absence I am simply his 
steward, and he gave me that power of attorney 
because he trusted me. I shall not fail,” she said, 
“to cry out in fear,” and without another word she 
went away, leaving Gray in the room to ponder. 

In two hours more that room was filled with a 
large gathering of the faithful. That was what Miss 
Riga called them ; what they actually were, who can 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


261 


tell ? Some, indeed, were very earnest, some were 
ready to sacrifice everything ; but, no doubt, many, 
like Mrs. Flite, were looking out for a happy hunting- 
ground of some sort or the other. However, they 
were there, and presented a goodly show, and all 
seemed in equal earnest. Lord Abchurch came quite 
early, for he was greatly interested in the whole matter, 
and having made up his mind to understand it, was 
determined to do so thoroughly. It seemed that Mrs. 
Flite was deputed to entertain him, for she kept close 
to him during the time before the actual proceedings 
of the evening began. Miss Riga never came in 
until the last moment, making always a theatrical 
kind of entrance ; and to-night, Gray, who was 
watching everything with great interest, noticed also 
that Daphne did not come until the last moment. 
He was in a very silent humour that evening. He 
had so much to think of, and was glad that Mrs. 
Flite devoted herself to Lord Ferdie. He was watch- 
ing the two closely, because they interested him 
more than anyone else, until Daphne appeared, 
when he saw Lord Ferdie start violently. Mrs. 
Flite had just put her lace handkerchief to her mouth, 


262 


MORI A L THE MAHATMA. 


and a look of triumph was on her face. A look of 
anxiety and surprise was on Lord Ferdie's. In his 
hand was a crimson rose, which had fluttered to him, 
as it seemed, from the ceiling. He held it up, and 
looked at it in great amazement. A flutter of excite- 
ment passed through the whole room, for this miracle 
had been worked in full conclave, and before the 
eyes of the full meeting. 

“ Look at it, Lord Ferdie,” said Mr. Foster, “it is 
sure to contain a letter from the Master ; ” and at 
these words everyone instantly drew a little nearer, 
and Lord Ferdie found himself the centre of a curious 
group. He pressed the rose gently, and drew from 
out the petals a folded paper. He opened it slowly, 
and under the scrutiny of all those curious eyes. 

“Is it an order? ” said an awed voice at last. 

“I cannot understand it,” said Lord Ferdie, “it 
seems to be written in some unknown language.” 

“Sanscrit, probably,” said Gray. “I can read it, 
Ferdie, if it is so. Let me look.” 

At that moment Daphne's voice was heard, and 
Gray turned with a start, very much surprised that 
she was in the room. She was standing in the arch- 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA. 2 63 

way, half hidden by the curtain, and now came 
forward. 

“ I have been here some moments/' she said, speak- 
ing deliberately, and yet with a strong and subdued 
excitement. “ I have seen all that has happened. It 
is not worth your while to read that message, Mr. 
Gray ; that is not a message from the unseen. Mrs. 
Flite is very clever, and has learned her business 
admirably, but I saw her throw the rose, although 
perhaps no one else did." 

“ Oh, yes, some one did," said Gray very drily, 
“and I have seen her do it before." 

Miss Riga was in the room by this time, and Mrs. 
Flite started from her chair and approached her. 

“There is a conspiracy against us," she said, in a 
voice almost inarticulate, with a mingling of passion 
and terror. 

Daphne turned upon them. 

“No, it is no conspiracy," she said. I am speak- 
ing the truth and intend to speak the truth. I came 
into this room with that intention to-night. When I 
saw so many drawn into this network of deceit, I 
resolved, come what might, I would speak, and tell 


264 


MORTAL THE MAHATMA . 


what I knew, and just as I entered the room I saw 
this trick played before my eyes. The credulous, 
who have believed so much, never paused to ques- 
tion but truly no one fresh from the outer world, 
could be so easily deceived,” and as she said this 
she turned to Lord Ferdie. 

He rose, and coming to her side, No,” he said, “I 
was not deceived.” He spoke very quietly, but the 
words evidently struck terror into the hearts of the 
two conspirators. They both looked at him with 
glances of dismay. 

“ I have much more to say than this,” said Daphne, 
and the amazed, eager little crowd drew back from 
her as she drew herself up and addressed them, with 
a peculiar manner, which made her seem like an 
inspired priestess. 

“I have to tell you,” she said, “ that I have seen 
this thing from the beginning, and that not only are 
the grand words that are used, reduced to mere 
meaningless jargon, because they are in the mouths 
of people who use them for a bad end; not only are 
the great thoughts drawn from the old religions de- 
based and degraded, because they are used as the 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA . 265 

screen for selfish and wicked actions. All that would 
be unintelligible, because we all know that the ordi- 
nary human being is imperfect and evil. But I have 
to say, too, I have myself seen the Master who initi- 
ated this movement and that he, so far as I can judge, 
is as evil as the creatures whom he uses.” As she 
said this she turned with a magnificent gesture to the 
portrait of Morial, the doors of which were always 
unlocked and thrown open for these special gather- 
ings, and instead of addressing the people about 
her, she addressed her next words to the portrait 
itself. 

Julian, left to himself, experienced a sense of lone- 
liness which had never befallen him before. All 
hope, all ambition, seemed killed by Kuthumi’s terrible 
words. Morial as a guide and a teacher was de- 
stroyed for him. What had he learned from this mon- 
ster of selfishness, that he should wish to know P 
Nothing ! The only thing that he desired to do was 
to save Daphne from the terrible consequences of the 
position in which she was placed, but he was power- 
less to do this, was powerless as though he were 


266 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 


dead, here in this remote, unexplored region. When 
his mind reverted to this, a longing to see and know 
what was happening drew him, almost without 
thought, from the room in which he had been sleep- 
ing, to that in which the crystal hung. He had no 
thought of Morial, or of anything else in the world — 
except what was happening in his own home. The 
crystal was clouded when he reached it, and he set 
himself to will that this cloud should clear, and he 
should see the truth. It did clear, as if in obedience 
to his will, and he saw the gathering which we have 
seen in the great drawing-room. He heard Daphne’s 
words, and a kind of terror came upon him when he 
saw her address herself to the portrait, for he knew 
by experience and by intuition that if she commanded 
Morial he must obey her, and if she did this to-night 
the final battle between them must come, and he 
dreaded that she would be the one that would be 
crushed. While he was thinking this, he heard her 
voice ring out, clear and plain, “Morial, I command 
you. I have found that by some mysterious power 
I can make you obey me ; you who profess to be the 
ruler of the world, I command you to listen to me now, 


MO RIAL THE MAHATMA . 267 

that I denounce you as a spirit of evil. You have 
knowledge and you have power, you are a Master, 
but you are a black Master. You put evil thoughts 
into men s minds, you corrupt them, you lead them 
into fatal positions, from which they can never escape, 
and then you make them your helpless tools. I 
know that Miss Riga wants the money which rich 
believers bring ; but you want more, you want their 
souls and their consciences, and their whole lives to 
be sacrificed to your monstrous selfishness, and you 
would make them as evil as yourself. Answer 
me/' she said with an air of command which sur- 
passed any possibility which seemed to lie within her- 
self, a manner which seemed visibly inspired. “An- 
swer me, I command you.” And then at this moment 
there came upon Julian the awful sense which he had 
experienced before when Daphne called him. Morial 
had come at her command, and again it seemed as 
if she saw him in person, for she turned from the 
portrait, and directly faced the place where Julian 
stood, and where Morial stood beside him. 

“ I denounce you,” she cried. “I know you to be 
a Master of the Black Art, and a servant of the devil ; 


268 


MORIAL THE MAHATMA. 


I invoke the pure Spirit of Truth to withstand your 
Jesuitical casuistries. I call upon the inner power 
of good which dwells in every man to withstand 
your subtle temptations ; and I demand that the Pure 
Spirit which enlightens the w r orld shall destroy you.” 

Julian, listening intently to these w r ords, forgot that 
he stood close to the Master to whom she addressed 
these words, but Mortal's presence 'was recalled to 
his memory by a terrible stifled cry which ‘seemed 
like no human sound that he had ever heard. He 
turned and looked, expecting to see something 
terrible and agonising, some mortal struggle for life. 
What he did see was simply the statue-like figure of 
the beautiful youth, w r hose fascinations had been so 
great. Looking back, he saw that the crystal was 
clouded, and terrified that he should not know the 
result of Daphne's inspired effort, he approached 
Morial hastily, and, touching him, to his horror, it 
was as though he had touched, not merely marble 
only, but ice. He recoiled from the chill of this 
contact, and as he did so he heard a cry of despair^ 
a wail as of a lost spirit, and he recognised the voice 
of Kuthumi. And he heard this voice speak. “ He is 


MORTAL THE MALTA TM A. 269 

gone/’ it said, “ where shall we find another in the 
world to join us. The mystic number is destroyed, 
He is gone.” The voice died away. Julian looked 
at the crystal, but it was dark again. He approached 
Morial’s figure, but it was fixed, immovable, and 
colder than death. A horror fell upon him, which 
was uncontrollable ; this exquisite form, this beautiful 
face, filled him with a sense of terror, now that this 
smile had gone, .and those eyes were helpless. Led 
by an uncontrollable impulse, he rushed out of the 
room, and throwing back the curtain from the door- 
way escaped into the outer air. But as he did so 
he almost fell across the lifeless figure of the panther 
which lay upon the threshold. Recovering himself 
he went on, and reached the lawn. The sun was 
high, and it seemed to have scorched the very ground 
on which he stood, for the verdure had vanished, 
where the velvet turf had been, it was all parched 
and harried. In spite of the heat of the sun, a bitter 
wind, ice-cold, blew across the valley. It appeared 
to have killed the flowers which had bloomed in 
such quantities, for on every side they drooped and 
hung lifeless on their stalks. The sight was horrible, 


270 


MORTAL THE MAHA TMA. 


and affected Julian with a new terror. He turned, and 
rushed back to the other side of the hermitage, to that 
place where he knew the great black horse Agape 
dwelt in a charmed stable. The great horse had 
been his friend before, and it seemed to him that in 
this strong animal life there would be some comfort. 
He flung wide the door, and rushed in, longing to 
touch the creature, and feel its burning breath. It 
had before now saved him from death. The horse 
stood there, but Julian’s artistic eye told him in- 
stantly that life was gone; that the splendid form 
before him was a statue of ebony, fixed and im- 
movable as the rock in which the charmed stable 
was hewn. With an awful cry he flung himself at 
the feet of this majestic statue, and in one moment 
the shock had silenced the questioning brain, and he 
had found the eternal quiet of death. 


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